


The Anguish Love Cured

by CandorGirl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-08 00:57:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 21,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1920669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CandorGirl/pseuds/CandorGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley are on the outs right as the war is over.  The scars Harry had aquired from fighting Voldemort can hardly compare, and when he is forced to wake up from his dream job, Harry finds he has nothing to hold on to anymore. Lost and confused he runs into Draco Malfoy. Finally, a purpose, maybe he can heal the scars of the war in a different way by befriending the enemy. If only it were so simple.</p>
<p>Draco Malfoy was not healing very well. He is hurt, in pain, and full of anguish. With everything he knew and loved ripped from him, how is he still alive? But then comes that insufferable Potter. Why is he so nervous? And why in the name of Merlin did he keep running into the man? Why did he like it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: You Can't Hide Forever 

 

Harry was sitting in the Three Broomsticks feeling downright miserable. He wouldn't normally go to the local Wizarding bar-- he gets too much attention for that-- but today all Harry really wanted was to be fawned over and coddled. Even though he had mastered the technique of warding off the unwanted attentions of girls ages ago-- three months age actually,-- since his nasty break-up with Ginny-- today Harry decided to let his guard down. In his opinion, his behavior was perfectly justified given he had NEVER had as bad a day as this one. Even killing Voldemort and dying doesn't do this day justice. Heck, DYING is preferrable at this point.

Well, actually, if Harry remained perfectly honest with himself, the day didn't start off so bad. In reality, today was shaping up to be a pretty great day. But never judge a book by its cover, and never judge a day by its morning. 

Harry woke up to Ron snoring loudly and basically causing a personal earthquake in their shared flat, as per usual. They had only bought the flat about a year ago as they left Hogwarts, but already Ron had managed to decimate it daily with his nasally tones. Harry turned over in his bed and hit Ron with a pillow murmuring,

"Wake up, you're causing natural disasters, you bugger." Ron snored on.

"Ugh," Harry growled as he got out of bed, "Seriously, Ron?"

He pushed his dead-to-the-world friend off of the bed and jumped back quickly as Ron took a swing and started cursing.

"Merlin's Beard, Harry nice way to wake a fellow up now isn't it? Couldn't you have just whacked me a brick instead? Would have been more civil.."

Ron continued to grumble as he got dressed for the day, but for Harry, his mission was accomplished. He managed to avoid all the haphazard insults thrown his way and go down to the kitchen for breakfast without dying or being hexed. Quite an accomplishment when you think about how much Ron despises being woken. To Harry's utter delight, when he got down there Hermione was sitting at the table and reading the Daily Prophet. She may only come over often because of her relationship with Ron, but every time still made Harry very happy. Here was somebody he could talk to, and she would help him out. He can't count the amount of times that Ron and he wound up staying up all night and laughing over mishaps that occurred in Auror training. (Imagine, casting a tracking spell and it rebounds. The poor guy just ends up running in circles as he frantically tries to find the "enemy" that is supposedly right next to him!) 

That particular morning, however, they were still cracking up about a cauldron that boiled over and bore a hole right into the floor below, causing acid to drip on the new recruits, which scared them near to death. despite the easy nature of their relationship, they knew the drill. Nobody ever mentioned the recurring nightmares that struck them all. They all knew that harry suffered the worst of them, and that Ron and Hermione were all but over the war. (At least as much as you can when your brother dies in it that is.) The companions avoided talking about how Harry woke up in cold sweats, or how he screamed bloody murder every night and cried about how this person or that died. His nightmares are almost always visions of how he couldn't save them. Harry sometimes even dreams of visions where Ron or Hermione or Ginny or any of close friends that survived die. Harry wouldn't be able to be consoled very well after those nightmares until he saw the person alive. At least they were rare.

Harry knew that his luck wouldn't hold however, as he looked up from his breakfast to comment on something that Ron has just said. Hermione caught his eye instead, and in the depths of her eyes, Harry saw a sympathy and a determination that could only mean one thing. Hermione was about to bring up an uncomfortable topic. The topic. he was able to enjoy a reprieve for but two minutes until Hermione did what they all knew she would do. She waited until all was calm and peaceful, then brought up the elephant in the room-- Harry's nightmares.

"Harry..." she tentatively inquired.

"Yes 'Mione?" came the tense yet loving reply.

" Do you... you don't have... I mean..." how flabbergasted she was at the moment just proved Harry was right about what she was going to say. "You are... Sleeping well, aren't you?"

Harry closes his eyes and exhales as images of a flaming room and a terrified blonde flit through his mind. That was the nightmare that has been occurring the most often now. Other images joined this recent horror. Evil laughter intermingles with the sight of mangled bodies and the faces of friends that will breathe no more. The cries of the mourning, the wails of those survived, they echo in Harry's ears in these few seconds of thought nearly bringing him to tears. As always, he is transported into the past just by the simple mention of "sleeping well" a concept that Harry has long forgotten. At last the whirlwind of paralyzing fear slows just as the vision of Voldemort steps to the forefront of his mind...

Harry's eyes snap open, abruptly halting the images. He stared into Hermione's troubled eyes, and saw the compassion there. He cannot burden her with this knowledge. If he couldn't protect thse that died... lying to protect Hermione seems just as good.

"Yeah," Harry forced out of his fear constricted throat, "I have." He was feigning nonchalance, and Hermione was not fooled. She had seen her friend's antics for too long to bemisled by such a weak assertion.

"It's just," Hermione began again, with every intention to finagle the truth from her raven-haired companion of eight years, "the war was only a year ago, Harry. I just thought with all that went on with you and Ginny..." 

Images of the red-head flit through the man's mind. Ginny laughing. Ginny smiling. Ginny looking bemused. Ginny snogging him. Ginny snogging someone else... 

"I figured that you might just still be having nightmares. Ron and I still do, and all we really did was destroy that last Horcrux! Not you of course though, Harry!" Hermione continued on hastily. " The war was hard on everybody, Harry. We all suffered loses, we don't want to lose you again. Not to this world of disturbing images and of death. We don't want you to have to go through this horror alone. Without somebody, you can be lost, unmoored, and Harry, if that happened, then the world wouldn't have just been ridded of a great evil, we would have lost a great blessing as well. Please, Harry, tell us. You don't have to be so noble as to suffer alone again. You have us. You always have. When I believed you to be dead, I nearly died myself. When you turned out to be alive I swear the world rejoiced. Please, Harry don't lie to us. If you are suffering nightmares and you do need support, we are here. Don't forget that."

Harry was silent for a long time after that. After such an impassioned plea, it was hard for Harry to do what he knew was right. It was so easy to turn to his long standing friends for support, but sometimes, you are too broken to be healed so easily. No, this is something that he has to do on his own. He has to prove that he can still be strong, Even if being strong is exactly what hurt them the last time.

" I appreciate that, Hermione, I really do," Harry finally asserted, "and I know that you are there. I was serious though. I'm fine."

Harry had to go out soon to see the results of his latest test. He can only hope the results will soothe him. If he passed. If he could stay. Keep this one pre-war dream alive. maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't have to hide anymore.

As Harry turned to go, he couldn't help but notice Ron, shaking his head "no" and revealing the truth.


	2. It was Only Just a Dream

When Harry had marched out of the flat, he wasn't exactly paying attention to the weather. He marched outside into what he had assumed to be a fairly pleasant day, and found that the weather was reflecting his mood. Thunder crashed and rain was falling in inundating sheets that thoroughly drenched Harry as he stepped outside. He walked all the way to the Auror's office anyways, he was NOT going back inside just to grab an umbrella, and at the moment casting even the simplest Impervious Charm didn't pass through the thoughts of a certain distressed wizard. 

Oh yes, magic was far from Harry's mind, or, at least, using magic was. Harry was fretting over the fact that today was the day that he would find out whether he can continue training to be an Auror. The training was very rigorous, but Harry enjoyed it. The first stage, the introduction, Harry passed with flying colors. All that it really was, was a crash course in how to defeat some magical creatures. Think of as though it were Defense Against the Dark Arts on steroids. That was the part nearly everybody can make it through. (that is unless you were squeamish or just really, really bad at examinations.) The second stage, the one Harry is on, is the make it or break it point in any initiate's career. They have been evaluated mentally, physically, and emotionally to see if they could handle the stress of isolation, weeks on the run, and being continually hounded by evil people (and creatures) that would like to see you dead. Harry knew that he had done well. He already had practice. 

Harry looked up in the middle of his musing in the deluge. He didn't know why, probably his Auror training kicking in, but as he did a jolt went through him, his heart nearly stopping. He swallowed, and took a deep breath, for just across the street was his nemesis and former Death Eater, Draco Malfoy. Even through the complete lack of visibility caused by the sweet sounding downpour, Harry knew it was Malfoy. He quickly averted his gaze and stared at the blonde man through the locks of his rain-drenched hair. 

"How is that Malfoy?" He thought. It had been over a year since Harry had seen the boy, and he looked good. No longer deathly pale, Malfoy could pass as being healthy. Harry shook his head and began walking away. But, as he looked up again bam! There gazes collided and Harry's world was thrown into anarchy because for just a second there was no animosity in the glare that was instantly locked on the blonde boy's face. Malfoy just looked shocked. Seeing Malfoy should have instantly curdled Harry's blood as it usually did. Instead, there was just this quaint hum there instead, likely just the hate had been lying dormant and was just now returning to the surface, where it belonged. Only, Harry's body betrayed him. Instead of glaring, or hexing him, por even rolling his eyes, Harry gave a nod and smile in Malfoy's general direction. He began to stroll away-- literally stroll as though today were a pleasant walk in the part and not a miserable downpour in the London streets!-- and then turned back momentarily. 

The other boy's reaction was priceless. He blinked shell-shocked before regaining his composure. A sly smile curled on his lips before he raised his hand and... (Harry's heart stopped momentarily)....flipped him off.

ARG! "The insufferable prat!" Harry seethed. "How could I expect anything else from him? Why would I expect anything else from him? Why would I want to?"

Harry was confused, but managed to cast a narrow eyed glare at Malfoy. Forget this strolling business! Harry was stalking away at this point! Screw Malfoy! He thought. Then he could just imagine Malfoy's subtle and antagonistic reply. 'You'd like that wouldn't you Potter?' It had been ages sie he had a row with Malfoy. "Stop thinking, Harry!" he thought to himself. 

Luckily, his stalking away did do some good. He was again feeling optimistic about receiving the results that would decide his future. He felt the silent scrutiny of those in charge as he worked, and he knew that he was able to deal with all the threats that Aurors had to face: seclusion, perpetual endangerment, and flight from evil to name a few. 

Harry arrived on the premises where Auror headquarters was, in record time, and he was paralyzed. A deep sense of foreboding overwhelmed him and he could not think of why that would be. Taking a deep breath, he ran his hand through his wet, disheveled, black hair, and entered into the Floo system that takes him to the training area. He walked cautiously toward the sheet of paper that held the list of names of those let go, the ominous feeling growing all the while. Ignoring the cheers of exultation emanating from those lucky enough to continue with training, Harry neared the list. He walked the walk of a dead man and blinked to see the results from his fogged up glasses.

The wave of despair and anguish that tore him made him want to wail in primal agony and regret at thing that could have been, but never were. The loss of chance for no good reason and the complete confusion was almost too much for the 19 year old Harry to bear! Why was his name at the top of the most pitiable list? 

"WHY?" He demanded to who he had assumed was no one. The cheers were deafening, how could anybody have heard him? Did he just not realize that he did in fact shout out his anguish in that one word as he meant to? Did he not hear the emotion he portrayed in that one word that immediately all others in the room fell quiet, mourning the end of such a promising student? No. He didn't know that his whispered question was in fact one yelled from the depths of ones being. He wa crushed. No longer living, so how was he breathing? 

The instructor, Mr. Geoffrey Powell, approached the broken specimen of a human with the greatest care. He looked to Harry as the harbinger of bad news that everybody had always pegged the teacher as since the first day. He looked the part and played it well. With compassion in his voice he turned to Harry and said, 

"Harry, I know that you must be wondering why--"

" WONDERING???" Harry exploded? "You can bloody well bet that I'm freaking wondering! How can I not be allowed to continue with my training? What did I do wrong? Where did I go wrong? You blokes praised my accomplishments and commended me, and here you are saying that despite all that I still wasn't good enough for your team? How is that fair or right? What is the matter with this organization?"

Now Mr. Powell looked mad. He looked furious, but what was scary was the way that he composed himself within seconds. "Well, Mr. Potter," he said, " There is nothing wrong with this organization as you so aptly put it, the problem we found was with you." 

Harry looked at the man dumbstruck. 

" Oh, hey now! Don't take it so harsh! Surely you could have seen this coming?" the man said sounding unkind despite his intentions to be otherwise. "It is not as it sounds. In fact, we would being doing you, and us, a favor! We found that your mental stability is questionable when it comes to a real situation. Your, ah, affiliation, with Voldemort, though helpful for the wizarding community as a whole, may be quite detrimental to your work here. You could become more of a liability than an asset. Surely you understand?"

Yes, he just said that. No Harry does not understand! He is furious and confused. This was done in front of all those people. Where you can't fall apart. 'You weren't imagining it Harry.' Harry thought. He knew that by just walking away he can avoid confrontation and go slink into a bar. His thoughts were buzzing with the insults he had endured. Harry wanted to rant, rave, yell, or throw things, but instead he took the high road out of what he had officially deemed "that hell-hole". He said, "okay" and walked away. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thus was the decent of Harry into the Three Broomsticks. At first glance, such predicaments would seem common and not so heart-wrenching, but for Harry this was just another failure of what he tried so hard to do. He was not good enough. He never had been. Not even defeating Voldemort makes up for the fact that now he has absolutely no purpose in life. maybe he just shouldn't be in life. The end of his world as he knew it was today, and he could find no way to salvage the pitiably remains of his life. The only thing he knew was fighting evil. Now that is impossible. 

Harry turned to the bar hound he had been zoning out on in order that he might flirt, but stopped short when he saw just whose silhouette enshrouded the door that he had a perfect view of from the angle he was leaning. The haughty grace is undeniable, the way the world stopped for a second was not able to go unnoticed. The world was shifted because for some reason or another, the newcomer was the last person Harry expected to see. Malfoy.

"Bloody Brilliant." Harry though as soon as he had registered the spectacle before him. Not him.

He assumed that he was muttering, but given his companions startled response, Harry must have been speaking just a tad too loudly. Lacey, the girl beside him, looked confusedly toward Harry,

"What is it Harry, dear?" The slush slurred.

"Oh nothing," Harry said bitingly, "Just tall, blonde, and arrogant walking through the door."

Obviously the girl was still confused, but that wasn't any of Harry's concern. He didn't want the whole wizarding world to know about the not-so-secret rivalry he and Malfoy share. Besides, she didn't really care, and even if he wanted to, Harry wouldn't have told this stranger anything. She was reaching for another shot, and at this rate would be utterly smashed within the next fifteen minutes. 

Not that Harry cared about that either. Really the only thing that mattered was the newcomer with the platinum blonde hair who's very presence seems to mock the day Harry just had. Idiotically Harry stood up from his bar stool. 

"Yo! Malfoy!" Harry shouted across the bar. 

The blonde' s head whipped around and his eyes narrowed as he saw where the voice originated. 

"Well, well, if it isn't the infamous Potter!" Was the responding snear that came over Harry's shoulder. 

Harry so didn't think this out, but he WAS drunk... or that's what he kept telling himself. 

"Shove it, Malfoy" Harry said trying to backpedal from his worst drunken decision yet. "I'm not in the mood to deal with the likes of you. You know, the hated and vile? Doesn't ring a bell? Well guess you're too conceited to notice things like that." 

" Ohhh Potter's got some spunk! He finally decided he isn't in the MOOD! After he begins a conversation! Oh who am I to mess with him and his moods. We must all just bow down and worship the Boy Who Lived. How can I be so callous as to not respect his feelings, poor guy." Malfoy punctuated such a cutting statement with his trademark sneer. 

That sneer was just enough to put the cherry on top of the dreadful day that Harry was having up to this point. That sneer brought back all of the resentment that Harry ever felt and had it hit a boil. Malfoy once mocked me, ridiculed me, laughed at me, and he was a total prat the entire time I knew him! A bloody poof with the way that he antagonized everything I did, the conceited and arrogant BASTARD! These thoughts circulated in Harry's mind and caused this explosion of emotions as a result. 

" Shut UP, Malfoy! Haven't you ever been taught manners or civility in conversation? Oh wait, why should you worry about being polite when you had Daddy to run off to, right? Well, your Daddy can't help you now, so it's high time you learned some." 

"Oh and what?" Malfoy fought, " YOU'RE going to teach them to me? That's rich! The only thing you can teach me is how to cope with the death of both parents. Oh boohoo the orphaned hero! How sad." 

"You have no right to talk about dead parents, Malfoy." Harry seethed, "Newsflash! Your parents are dead, and they died in Azkaban." 

That was the wrong thing to say to the emotionally unstable boy in front of Harry. Malfoy's eyes flashed with a sudden rage, and he roared out his anger. He ran towards Harry... and froze. Literally froze. Not a muscle moved on either of the boys. This was only disorienting given neither man heard the bar tender cast the Freezing Spell upon them. 

Their glares were locked in place. The animosity between them never wavered. The bartender's next words came into their ears nearly incoherent as it was muffled by the intensity of their hate. 

"If you buggers are going to brawl," the angry wizard said, "then go and do it outside. I do not need to get blood on the floor. Its hard to clean up even with a good Cleaning Spell." 

The spell was released and the punch that Malfoy was about to throw made contact. 

Harry was mad now. So enrages was he, that as Malfoy walked out the back door the bartender had pointed to, he followed that crown of blonde hair without hesitation. There were thousands of thought swirling through the man's head, all of them warning him against fighting this man, but he disregarded every single one of them. He enjoyed being this riled up for some reason, and only Malfoy could get him like this, so logic was unwelcome. Who cares that Harry is the Boy Who Lived? Everybody except Malfoy. Malfoy doesn't care about titles. Why else would a former Death Eater frequent a wizarding bar? 

None of these thoughts truly mattered. Harry was of a single-minded purpose as he walked into the alley way: destroy Malfoy and his arrogance. One would think that Harry would have better control of himself and his emotions because of his Auror training, but for some strange reason, all of his training was useless when he was faced with this arrogant, infuriating, and exasperating blonde! 

The troubles of the day were what he was really riled about, but the addition of dealing with Malfoy really wasn't helping. harry looked up from his thoughts. There he was, silhouetted against the light of a lone lamppost. Malfoy. 

Harry was at a point that it didn't matter that millions of wizards will see what he is about to do. Screw society. They can't tell him who to be!  
"Malfoy!" Harry roared. He rushed up to the figure framed in shadows and bathed in lamplight. 

When he traded him, he was breathing heavy and full of righteous anger, but it distributed him to see the calm that Malfoy was portraying. Again it was as though he didn't care about Harry or anything else in the world.it was strange, to say the least, but at the most out only served to engage Harry more. The liquor he consumed did not aid him either. 

How dare he be calm! As Malfoy turned, the he got a face full of fist. He didn't cry out. He just to it..and took it and took it. Harry was in frenzy. His admitted drunkenness caused many of his punches to graze past the impassive youth, but he was still fierce. That is until the more sober Malfoy decided to fight back. 

He threw exactly one well-aimed punch-- right into Harry's face. His nose immediately shattered and blood poured down his face and his nose was throbbing in pain. Cursing and spluttering Harry backed away. He was in shock. He glared at his opponent and tried to resume pounding him relentlessly. Then he hit the wall. 

"Ouch." The skin was peeling from Harry's self-inflicted injury. 

Malfoy again gained the upper hand. He grabbed the lapels of Harry's jacket, twirled him around, and shoved him against the wall. Malfoy put his face right up to Harry's and hissed angrily, 

"Potter, what exactly is your problem?" Malfoy had a swollen lip and a black eye. 

"You." was Harry's disgruntled reply. 

"So.." Malfoy puzzled aloud, "That is reason enough to try and beat me senseless? I am but an innocent by-stander, Potter trying to breathe in the insanely muggy London air. Unlike you apparently. The defender of the helpless and innocent, turned rouge! Who would believe this? Potter switched sides to become an angry prat! Well, hate to break it to you, but to kill me, you would have done much better with 'Avada Kedavra'." 

There was a slight flash of a camera...drat. 

What was more disturbing then the fact that soon the whole world will know of this fight is the fact that something Malfoy said actually made sense. He searched Malfoy's eyes and found a trace of intelligence he must have missed before. They were locked in the intense gaze, probing, searching the other, and then it was over. The gaze was becoming awkward. They were nemeses. Yet, Harry still sent gazed into Malfoy's eyes probingly with a question. Malfoy flushed-- with anger?-- and stalked away, looking down muttering curses. The only one that Harry was able to discern was: 

"Bloody poof." Harry stood dumbfounded of what just happened. His only consolation was that he probably wouldn't remember this in the morning. Harry slowly turned and trudged back to his house, not looking forward to confronting Hermione, forgetting he could Apparate.


	3. Memories

Hermione was sitting in the guy's flat with Ron waiting for Harry to return. She didn't know exactly why she was worried, but there No doubt in he mind that she was. It had been a long time since Harry went out, and having been his close companion for these past 8 years made her know he was doing something reckless. Or if he hadn't already then he was about to do so. She wants to be there for him, but something tells her that if she was, she would do something reckless. He was in trouble, she was certain of it. 

"Hermione, stop pacing!" Ron said in an aggravated tone. "You're making me nervous!" 

She was pacing? Well, darn, she was. 

"Sorry." She murmured in reply. 

She couldn't help it. All Hermione could do is think about how distraught Harry must be! Becoming an Auror had meant the world to Harry and Ron himself explained that Harry's dream was not coming true. He took it well Ron had said, but Hermione found Ron actually understands how well Harry could act when he had to. That whole "I'm okay, leave me be" routine doesn't work on her and she will never will fall for that act again. She made the mistake once, and she soon realized how good Harry had become at hiding his emotions. The memory tugs at her heartstrings still. 

"But why, Hermione?" Harry had yelled, "What is the point of my staying alive when all those people had to die! It kills me to think that they died for me! You say they didn't but it's true! Whether intentionally of not, I started the war that killed them. I ended it to, but they still died! Remus, Tonks, and the rest of them! Ron never has forgiven me for killing his brother it seems..." 

Hermione looked down unable, for the first time, to answer the question that Harry posed her. She knew only one thing to do. 

"Ron, doesn't hate you..." She tried. 

"Don't give me that crap, 'Mione, just don't do it. Answer me!" 

Seeing his distress nearly killed her. She was wound up and angry that he couldn't possibly see what was right in front of him. Theyt didn't do it for him, they wanted to do it for themselves. He doesn't understand. He couldn't handle the stress of having so much dezath on his hands, and it wasn't even his fault or that happening. Voldemort was to blame for this, but because he had died and Harry hadn't, Harry couldn't see that truth. He was blind to it in his pain. Hermione didn't know how to voice this she didn't know how to help him. 

" I don't know, Harry!" She yelled back trying not to burst into tears. "Do you not realize how HARD this is for me? I see you day in and day out as you insist that you are fine, perfectly normally, but I can see that you aren't? I see the way that you hide, I see how you try hard not to cry when the Daily Prophet has yet another report on the Battle of Hogwarts and, Merlin, Harry, if it doesn't nearly kill me to see how you are on the verge of doing something utterly stupid in your grief! I feel the same way, but you are being so personal about it! People died, but the always do. Teddy was orphaned, but he still has you. Please, please, please stop focusing on the dead when there are people living that need you! I'm afraid Harry. Afraid for you. I seem to think hat if you keep thinking about Sirus and Dumbledore and the rest that you are going to try to join them!" 

"Hermione, I wanted to stay and join them, I nearly did. You say I survived and should continue to survive, but at what purpose? Why stay alive? Why did I come back just to witness all the pain I caused? I thought I was helping. I thought I was done with all of the suffering, but it follows me, 'Mione. It is following me, has been following me and always will. I don't know if I can take it! I could have stayed. I should have stayed with them." 

"Oh, Harry," Hermione whispered, openly crying at this point. "Is that really what you wanted? Do you really want to die?" 

"Yes," he said with conviction, "No," he quickly followed, "Maybe," was the final verdict. "I don't know Hermione. It seems easy that way." 

"Don't I know it!" She sympathized. 

"It just seems," he mused, "that if I stayed that there would have been much less death, misery, and suffering. I can't make anybody happy anymore. I just want to know that it will be easier, that it will be worth it somehow." 

"It will, Harry, it will." Hermione had consoled. 

"How do you know?" Harry sounded utterly broken. The way his voice had cracked, the way that tears will filling his eyes fogging up his glasses, the sleeplessness in his gaze, it was obvious that Harry was miserable. He was broken, maybe beyond repair. 

"It's easy for you to say, I bet." Harry continued spitefully, lashing out in his weakness. " You have Ron. You two have been inseparable since the war. You share the weight of the grief. You two console each other and hold each other up from falling into deep depression. You have managed to begin healing and forgetting, even if it doesn't seem that way!" 

Hermione was speechless. Perhaps dying had made Harry more perceptive and insightful, glummer(?). He was obviously so distraught that he was saying this without thinking about what he was saying. Harry was almost NEVER this open with anyone. Hermione had to choose her next words more carefully, sensing that Harry was about to learn something more than he was aware of at the moment. 

"We are all healing, Harry." Her voice was soft and pitying. "Some of us are healing more slowly than others, but now that you have Ginny--" BAM! instant explosion. That was the wrong thing to say. 

"Oh, right," came Harry's bitterly sarcastic, stinging reply, meant only to harm and maim-- lashing out from the pain he felt. "I have GINNY! How can I have possibly forgotten?" 

"Harry?" Hermione tried, but he was on a tangent now and cut her off.  
"Maybe I should just go to her and rip her away from the guy she is snogging, Neville or Seamus Ginny dearest, I'll ask her, and then I could say hey despite ripping out my heart do tou want to go and help me recover from Nightmares?" There was a shocked pause, "Yeah, that's going to happen." 

Hermione could feel Harry's eye-roll. 

"Oh, Harry.. I didn't" 

"Stop, Hermione," Harry said briskly, "I don't want to hear it. I don't want your pity. It's hard enough.. just...leave me alone okay?" 

"Okay." 

Hermione, at this point, knew it was better to leave it be. Harry can work through his distress, and if she were to push it, then he may never forgive her. He will come to her and apologize later for his brusque-ness; he always does. She would accept his apology, as always, and they would try to forget how much Harry had let go. 

Harry, after that, threw himself into Auror training. Try as she might, Hermione could never forget how he spoke to her, so full of pain, and she worried that he was going to get hurt. She trusted him, and she couldn't judge how he coped. 

Later, in her musings, Hermione realized something, something that could have helped. In his rant, Harry only ever mentioned lives lost, not the lives he saved.. 

Hermione's head snapped up when she heard a key turn in the lock. She stared as the person silhouetted in the doorframe. When she saw what state the person was in, she nearly burst into tears. Harry. 

What have you done?


	4. Comfort In Dark Times

Hermione was staring at the door where Harry stood. He was covered in bruises and was sporting a broken nose. His eye was swollen and lip split. It was obvious she was right in being worried. Harry had gotten into a fight. As much as she wanted to, she knew that now was not the time to go and lecture him. His hair managed to reach a new state of disarray, yet plastered to his head because of the rain, and his face was gaunt and lonely. 

Things are far worse than she had assumed. He was obviously drunk, but that didn't matter. He was still Harry and he was hurting. Hermione ran up to her friend and wrapped her arms around his waist murmuring, "It's okay, Harry. It's okay. What happened?" 

Up until this point Harry had been so out of it that he didn't notice Hermione, who was standing right in front of him. She was crying. Bawling really. Harry seemed to think that she hadn't cried this hard since Ron and he had found her in the Girls' Bathroom First Year. 

"Shhhhh," He soothed the frizzy-haired girl, "It's okay. I'm okay. It's all right. Shhh." 

Harry's kindness in such a situation just caused Hermione to cry even harder. 

"Does your head hurt too?" He slurred, "Don't cry! It's not that terrible." 

Hermione laughed through her sobs. "No, Harry it's not my head that hurts. It's my heart!" 

"Did Ron hurt you?" Harry roared. "I swear, if he did then, my best mate or not, I will kill him.." 

Hermione cut him off " 

No, it's just....You look so dreadful! I had to make sure your okay, but then you walk in so obviously NOT okay, and it hurts me. Please, what happened?" 

" Oh." Harry deflated. He didn't want to talk about what happened. Remembering was too hard. Remembering is what got him in this situation, well, remembering a certain silver-eyed boy who just HAD to know... something. Hmmm. 

Hermione moved over to support Harry before he fell. He had been swaying precariously for awhile there. 

"I... ran into Malfoy." Harry muttered. "We were at a bar, and drunk. That's all. We got in a fight. Where's Ron?" Harry was trying to change the subject. 

"He went to bed about an hour ago." Hermione responded immediately, "but don't change the subject, Harry. You got in a fight with Malfoy?" 

"Well... Yeah. But it was more like he began it, walked away, and then allowed me to beat him senseless. He eventually pushed me off, got in my face, and said I was an idiot." 

"Same old Malfoy then." Hermione grumbled. 

"Yeah." Was the non-committal response. 

"Yeah?" Hermione inquired, curious about Harry's apathy. "What exactly did you say that set him off like that, Harry? I can hear the guilt in your voice even though you're drunk." 

Harry winced and Hermione immediately was contrite, until she realized he was wincing from the pain that he was feeling, not the stinging comments he had received. (She yells at him WAAAY to often for THAT to bother him.) 

Hermione healed the boy with a flick of her wand. 

"well," said Harry, in pain because of the Healing process, "I kinda mentioned how Malfoy was apart whose parents were shut away to die in Azkaban.." 

Harry looked away from Hermione's piercing glare that seemed to be a permanent fixture on her face at this point. 

"Harry!" She exclaimed in shock and disbelief. How could he have said something so callous and biting to somebody when he knows how it feels to lose those you love! He shouldn't have been able to THINK of doing so, even drunk. Malfoy must really have some power over Harry to make him say such things. 

She, in her surprise whacked Harry on his (now healed) nose. 

"That was uncalled for! I know that it was only Malfoy, but Malfoy is, in the loosest definition of the word, still human! You could have seriously hurt him, or... something. Oh! What am I saying? He's just too terrible! Did you bust him up really good?" 

"Oh yeah," said Harry enthusiastically. "I got the wall pretty good too..." 

Harry began laughing hysterically, the stress of the past few days finally catching up to him. Hermione smiled, shook her head, and wagged her finger as though she were about to lecture him again, but eventually she too succumbed to the hysterics. 

"We're terrible!" She shrieked laughing. 

The noise of the two's mirth apparently woke up Ron who stumbled out of the bedroom half-dressed with hair in disarray. Groggily he asked 

"Wazz goin' on?" 

"Nothing, Ron!" They chimed simultaneously, which caused them to laugh even harder. When they finally caught their breath again they said "Go back to bed! We'll be there soon." 

Ron happily agreed and complacently walked back into the room and was snoring in moments. 

Harry and Hermione stayed up very late laughing, and when they finally did follow through on their promise of going to bed, they did so with huge grins on their faces. 

That night, for the first time in ages, since the end of the war even, no nightmares plagued their sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How am I doing so far? Trust me. this is EXTREMELY long and any advice is helpful! :)


	5. Tiles On The Floor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it takes so long to update! I don't have a computer at home so lucky me I have only a little bit of time when I go to the library so, Enjoy! I hope the wait was worth it!

 Draco was not happy. He too walked home in the rain, but he didn't have the comfort of returning to friends, and he definitely didn't have anybody to comp ain to. He walked back to a desolate flat on the complete opposite side of town from where Potter resides. He is anonymous where he is, and that is highly unusual for a Malfoy. Malfoys tend to be show off-y, but when you lose a war things do tend to change. He is not in Wizarding society anymore. Everybody there judges him for the acts of his parents and not for his acts of lesser evil. He tried to protect his family, but nobody saw it that way. He was a Death Eater. That was it. So he never did anything more than aide Voldemort, but any association with him was bad enough. He only got out of Azkaban when his  mother stood up for him during his trial and said that it was her fault. He still was put on probation, but it was better than being Kissed.

 Normally Draco isn't one to go and dwell on the past like he is now, but after seeing bloody Harry Potter, the first time he was out and about again, who wouldn't? He can rail and bluster and complain to everybody about the infernal man, and if he slipped up and talked about magic, nobody would care. HE was trashed anyway. It was stupid of Potter to think that he was sober. Just because that was the first Wizarding Bar he entered doesn't mean that Muggle alcohol doesn't do the trick. Just because Potter is noble "Do no Wrong" doesn't mean Draco has to conform to that! Sure, it backs up popular opinion, but who cares? They all hate him anyways. He had been driven off the deep end a long time ago by the lot of them. Potter especially.

Potter had been a nuisance to Draco since before the war. He had been obsessed with annoying the heck out of Draco, but it wasn't as if he had any room to talk. The very idea of Potter contrasted with everything Malfoy had been taught to believe. Potter had everything a man could want in life, friends, prestige, power, money, and fame; yet the git would gladly give it all up! Draco wouldn't do that even now, when he has nothing. He has no friends, and his reputation is in ruins. Potter is the cause of all his grief. Causing the bloody Dark Lord to die ad causing havoc that is irreparable. A rift that will take decades to mend between the followers of Voldemort. There isn't much he can do to fix that. Potter. Grief causer... Dream haunter.... Life saver. Dang it! He can't hate him any longer. Potter, with his emerald eyes forever filled with grief-tinged joy. A pain that was evident today even when he was plastered and trying to bash in Malfoy's brain. Draco still wanted to wipe away that pain.

"Bah" Malfoy exclaimed in disgust. His own thoughts are betraying him! He **hates** Potter. Who cares if he is hurt or distraught? He should _relish_ the pain Potter is in, not empathize with it! Potter _deserved_ the pain most likely. He always assumed that the pain was due to his idiocy in being willing to give everything up for others, but now a more sinister thought crept into his Slytherin brain. _Maybe the Weasley Girl dumped him at last!_ That was MALIGN joy in his breast, not any other kind.

As Draco pulled out is keys to open the door to his flat, he was suddenly struck with utter distaste with the whole situation. Malfoys shouldn't be sleeping in a grungy place as this! The Malfoy Manor may be in ruins (not that he'd want to return, there were too many sour memories of the Dark Lord, or Harry being marred by the Stinging Hex, or the Granger girl being tortured-- He wasn't completely heartless.) but it _was_ epitome of what being a Malfoy was.

Draco walked the empty halls of his flat, despair creeping into his soul. How could he be a Malfoy if he is the only one left, and how could he be the one to show what a Malfoy was? It was too much of a burden. He was a nothing, hated and outcast, he wasn't a Malfoy. Who was he then? Who is the pathetic blob of flesh and blood? WHO WAS HE? Dracowas on the verge of a break down. Malfoys don't lose control but it seemed as if he had no choice. He was being pulled under by the tidal wave of despair that harmed everything in his path. You would think that with the sound of partying next door to him, Draco would be able to pull on his Malfoy Mask, or be able to overcome this aching depression that had its claws in him, but it made the depression worse. He was in pain. His heart breaking. The nightmare of his life intensifying by the simple fact that he wasn't invited to party with even Muggles. 

He knew life was going to be different when his parents were sentenced to Azkaban, but if he had known the ostracism he'd face, he would have preferred the Kiss. Slowly Draco got up from the couch he was sitting on and trudged to the bathroom, devoid of cheer as the rest of his undecorated "home", and opened the medicine cabinet to find an old fashioned razor.  He closed it in his grip and moaned out his anguish. Did the want this? His eyes closed and the demons in his mind battling sense, he wanted to say yes. NO? Yes? What did he want? Did it matter? The demons won. He positioned the razor on his skin and pressed down, a line of blood following the motion. The anguish that fills his heart mixed with alcohol in his system he was too lazy (and drunk) to dispel caused his re-descent into Self Harm. The pale skin now flowered with a shock of red. Angry red lines and viscous red fluid on the floor tiles. The story of his life now, then, and for the foreseeable future. Luckily, what the future truly held could not have been foretold.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please Review! I have most of what is going to happen written out but if any of you guys have any ideas for what should happen they would be greatly appreciated!


	6. New Reactions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Faster update!! :D please review.

Draco Malfoy woke up in a puddle of his own blood thinking of Harry Potter once more. He had been one of the things Malfoy had slashed his skin about. He remembered how the pain of his self mutilation blanked out his mind. He urged for that feeling even more now. He picked up his bloody blade once more. He didn't stop. He didn't have nightmares last night. Perhaps this is what keeps them at bay.

Little did he know about the halo of blood that had surrounded his head while he had slept. The irony would not have been lost on him. He was no Angel, but apparently somebody thought so. Blood dropped out of Malfoy's usually pristine hair. Now he'll never know. 

___________________________________________________________

Harry woke up with a hangover go the third time in a row. He quickly guzzled a hangover potion and was very willing to escape the house. He was always quick to escape the house now for fact that Hermione would rampage on him again. Ever since the incident at the Three Broomsticks Harry avoided wizarding bars and only went to Muggle ones.

The publicity that Harry got for his "stunt" there was colossal. He didn't tell Hermione where he fought Malfoy, and that turned out to be a huge mistake. The moment she saw the Daily Prophet with a full front page report on Harry's "drinking problem" written by none other than Rita Skeeter, Hermione exploded.

All laughter from the last night was forgotten.

"You didn't tell me the fight was THERE!"

Harry wanted to say something snarky like "well, you didn't ask." But all he said was, "yeah."

"So that's all I get?" She said, "`yeah?` well I see how important your friends are to you! I guess you just don't want help. Don't expect MY help again, yeah!" Hermione had stopped off and she STILL wasn't taking to Harry.

Oh well. Since Harry all but lived in bars and slag houses, he didn't care. He didn't need to deal with stupid and drawn out fights with girls.

Only, today, Harry didn't want to get wasted either. He wanted to fly. So without waking Hermione and Ron, Harry gathered up his broom and gear, shrunk it, and contempated taking the Floo to Diagon Alley. He really should have eaten something first, but he could just pick something up before entering the Wizard Quiddich Stadium.

Harry decided not to Floo. So, after placing a Silencing Charm, he skunk down the halls and opened the front door to be bombarded by the London sounds of traffic and intense road rage arguments. Taking a deep breath Harry went and Apparated to a nearby alley, startling a mugger who waited in anticipation of his next victim. When the Muggle thief ran off, Harry didn't care to follow. He was apathetic to the entire situation. To all of life. He was just drudging through the motions of a lonely and purposeless existence he would like nothing more then to end. He knew to breath, walk, and eat, but everything else has no reason.

At least he has his broom. It was a small comfort, but at least it was a comfort of some sort. It kept Harry from despair at the very least.

When Harry pulled out his Firebolt from its shrunken state in his wallet, he smiled for the first time in weeks. A genuine smile faced his features. Hermione would be proud, but apparently Hermione wasn't there to enjoy it. The person who was, Harry did NOT want to see again. Malfoy. Was it not enough that he was in Harry's nightmares?

A scowl quickly took over the smile that WAS on Harry's face. All Harry did was ever his favorite Muggle coffee shop! Why did he have to run into Malfoy? Then Harry thought about it. Malfoy. In..a MUGGLE coffee shop?

Harry's curiosity was piqued. So, before Malfoy noticed Harry's entrance, Harry his being the pillars. Only, Malfoy wouldn't have noticed Harry. He was FAR too occupied, of what Harry observed was anything to go by....

Harry choked when he saw the next scene. A boy ran up to Malfoy, wrapped his arms around Malfoy's slender waist, nuzzled his chin in the crook of his neck, and whispered something. Whatever it was caused Malfoy Rio glow. Positively GLOW with happiness. It was a good look for him...

A new, more prominent emotion was bubbling beneath the surface of Harry's initial disgust and anger. A setting, rolling emotion nearly unfamiliar to him. Jealousy. Was Harry REALLY jealous of Malfoy for having a good, loving relationship? Apparently. He felt it with Ginny and Neville, as well as, to a certain extent, Hermione and Ron. No denying it. Harry was jealous.

"How is it I'm jealous of HIM??" Harry thought aloud, gathering strange looks from a few of the shop patrons. Good thing Harry was to jealous to care about what these prior thought of him. Let them some him to be crazy. He was crazy. Crazy jealous!!

At that moment, right before Harry retreated to just skip breakfast, his spying was discovered by a certain blonde.

"POTTER!" Malfoy, looking quite flushed, says in shock and slight outrage, "what are YOU don't here?" The tone of his voice may l made it obvious he thought Harry had no right to be there, nor did Malfoy want him there. 

Harry tried, and failed, to keep his rage out of his voice and feign nonchalance. He didn't witness a PDA infraction committed by his childhood enemy. Not. He didn't just see that!! "Getting breakfast" he said. Smooth,, Harry. At least it was civil Harry thought.

"Well, OBVIOUSLY, Potter. I would never have guessed you can't to a breakfast so for breakfast." Suddenly Malfoy didn't get the "civil" memo. But that soon changed when May caught sight of the boy he was with writing them suspiciously. Malfoy smiled and lost all interest in Harry. He began to walk back to the man, but Harry could have none of that. Best annoy the bloke just for the heck of it.

Maybe it was because the stranger was to darn cute for his own good--did Harry just think that?-- with his chestnut brown hair that curled slightly, or the fact that he had... but finishing that thought!... but either way, when Malfoy began to walk away, Harry reached up, stroked Malfoy's arm, and purred, "bye, Malfoy", confusing the both of the boys.

Harry then rushed out of the door, his mind frozen in shock--he just caressed Malfoy!-- and didn't care that he was skipping breakfast. 

"What worries me more than not eating," Harry reasoned, "is that I made Malfoy jump, and didn't enjoy it. I actually felt bad... but my heart was ask fluttery. Different hate?"

Harry continued to contemplate his new reaction to Malfoy as he continued on his way to the Quiddich Pitch and eventually decided to forget it and just fly.

Harry's hand was still tingling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooh interesting huh? Wonder how long it'll take Harry to see the truth of this new "hatred"! :) any ideas? Just let me know!! Thanks for reading of you've gotten this far!! So much more is to happen so just stay tuned and I apologize profusely in advance for my slow updates :/ sooooo sorry guys! I'm trying to work on that issue.


	7. Just A Dream?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I just say, I'm happy I'm updating so often!! But beware, the start of school is going to put a bit of a damper on things :/

There is that moment between waking and sleeping where it seems like everything is languid and free; two worlds collide causing infinite possibilities. This moment is disorienting, and for one disconcerting second, neither worlds are reality--until both are. When you are half-awake everything and anything is possible.

Such a feeling as this describes how Harry feels when he flies. Infinite. The only thing is, unlike with dreams, he is able to control the cacophony of images that bombards his mind. He KNOWS Quiddich is reality, and he rides as though the other players but phantoms in his mind. It doesn't matter where he is on the field, all that matters is he is on his broom.

On this particular day, Harry was playing Beater for his make-shift team. Whenever he was Beater, Harry had a flashback to when he was in First Year and was called "the Youngest Seeker in a Century". He was being instructed on the simplicity of Quidditch by none other than Oliver Wood. The rules, the balls used and who does what, but when he asked about the bludgers, he just let one loose and Harry whacked it. The praise Wood gave him made Harry glow. He doesn't know why that was his most vivid memory, glowing at Wood's praise, but it was. Even without this mystery solved, Harry pushed all his memories to the back of his mind as he flew around the field with the sun in his eyes, beater's stick in his one hand, his broom in the other, looking for the way he could save the game this time.

Spotting it, he flew down to the bludger, hit it across the field and away from his team's Chaser. The "crowd" roared and Harry never felt so light, so content, so.... Wait just one second! That IS NOT Draco Freaking Malfoy? (No, It's Draco Lucius Malfoy. Some snarky part of his brain replied.) But it WAS. No longer did Harry forget about Voldemort, his past, his nightmares, or his confusing reaction towards Malfoy, because there he WAS. His dream world was shattered as effectively as a ray of sunlight shining in through your bedroom window forces you to consiousness. The dream and reality, the reality an dthe dream, both are wrenched away from you and for one instaneous second you are drifting in the NOW and the confusing morning haze is lifted, and you are awake, alive, and you can't possibly fall back asleep.

Thus is the effect Malfoy has on Harry Potter.

When Harry saw Malfoy that day on the Quidditch Pitch, he realized (for an instant) that up until now he had been living a half-life, and only Malfoy seemed to make it full-- WHAAAAAAAT???????? Harry's miond yelled at him! he nearly toppled off his broom (missing a bludger too, luckily.) Sure it was always gratifying to have somebody always willing to outdo him and make him want to be MORE but that was what rivalry was.. wasn't it? At this moment of epiphany the seeker caught the snitch. The crowd goes wild, but all Harry could do is sit Shock-Still on his broom.

Harry landed his Gothis looking Firebolt, his companion of the ages, and looked around for the blonde.

"Why would Malfoy even BE here?" Harry eventually did see the same man that Malfoy was with in the coffee shop walking right behind Malfoy. HArry wasn't happy to see him. he felt an irrational rage overcome him, and without knowuing what he was doing, he marched across the field toward Malfoy's little boyfriend (Which is what Harry deduced he was) not knowing exactly what he was going to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And chapter is short! sorry :/ but ohh suspense! Will Harry get in yet ANOTHER fight?? :D as always, reviews and suggestions are welcome! :)


	8. On Self Reflection (wish it never happened)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Discovery. Arguments and Stalkers. Great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can type at home now! I'll update as much as possible as always so, enjoy guys! (sorry it took so long :( )

Nothing made sense anymore. Why did he run to the enemy after a victory, even one as small as a Quidditch match? Even worse,why did he want to share any victory with the enemy. HIs nemesis. A boy. Who is taken by another boy? Harry's brain must really be fried. Too much sun and exercise and not enough time sleeping, even if that sleep is plagued with nightmares. Yes, That's it. Harry just needs sleep. But if that was the case why did his feet keep taking him to the place where he knew Malfoy was?

Harry gave up fighting the urge to go to him. He let his Seeker-trained vision to scan the crowd for another glimpse of Malfoy, who he had lost in his musings. There! A flash of blonde hair and Harry was off. Toward the concession stand he walked despite the confused glances he would have seen if he turned back. But he didn't. 

The antagonistic male figure was just a few spans away and closing and Harry was so close! Then, a hand in his shoulder and Harry whipped around to see his unknown assailant only to realize it was the handsome brunette that always hung around Malfoy. Malfoy's boyfriend, the fairy. 

"Who are you?" The boy demanded, "and why are you following us?"

Harry started. Not quite expecting a confrontation. He was so intent upon getting to Malfoy to stop this pull this attraction that was emanating from the boy, that he hadn't realized the boy had broken away and snuck up behind him. Although, Harry really should have expected it. He did stroke this bloke's boyfriend's arm...

"Well, are you going to answer or are you too daft? You look daft you little bugger. Seriously. Why are you following us? You look like a creepy stalker the way you show up where we do! Do you have a thing for my boyfriend? Because if you do, back off you prat! He's mine!"

Harry snorted. "My name is Harry. I am not stalking you, I say it's quite the opposite. Are YOU stalking ME? Wouldn't be the first time. And I most definitely do not have a thing for Malfoy unless by 'thing' you mean an all consuming dislike. Which I doubt."

"What do you mean people have stalked you? You're a nobody, right? Who cares about nobodies? And who in the world is Malfoy? I'm talking about Draco!"

Harry was in shock. Who was this kid? He didn't know about him? Harry Potter? Normally the fame was annoying, but to finally be relieved of it was surprisingly unrewarding.  
"Well, given I'm Harry Potter, I say I've been stalked. Not that I like it. Id rather be rid of it. The reporters knocking down my doors, the fans giving me things even though they're complete strangers. It doesn't make any sense. They think I'm some kind of hero for living when I really had little to do with that. And then fulfilling a prophecy, how does that make me a hero? But whatever. Just so you know, we are talking about the same person. Malfoy. Draco Malfoy." Harry said, unintentionally quoting the introduction that Draco gave to Harry all those years ago in Madam Malkins Robe Shop.

"You.. You're Harry Potter? THE Harry Potter? Destroyer of Voldemort, The Boy Who Lived? No Way. Draco would have told me he knew you. Draco Zabini would have told me. I don't know what you're playing at, Potter, no matter how famous you are. You can't go around saying another man's boyfriend is some ex-death eater when he is part of a very respectable family!"

Again Harry snorted, a derisive sound even to his own ears. Malfoy. Respectable. What did he think he was doing claiming to be a Zabini?

"Don't you dare snort at me! I'm telling you the truth. I don't know what planet you come from where you think Draco is a criminal! He is too sweet for that kind of life."

"Right... Keep believing that, you little ponce?"

"I will! But do you really think you want to go and insult me, or try to,that is."

"Yeah, why not? Since I came here to play Quidditch, not stalk you, I say I can full well do what I please."

"Yeah, well, I'm Leo Vasquez and very well connected being the minister's secrectary's grandson! If I wanted I can file a complaint against you!"

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, well, you're the gay grandson who thinks that a public complaint will possibly bother me. So I don't feel all too threated."

"Why do you keep bringing up the fact that I'm gay you stupid, ignorant, prick? Does that bother you, you freaking homophobe? Huh? Does it?"

"No." Harry responded automatically, but that response was just reflex. Never had Harry ever really contemplated on how he felt about homosexuals. He knew that Uncle Vernon always railed about how much of a disgrace they were to the human society. How they were freaks that didn't deserve to live. In that respect, Harry had always felt a sort of kinship with the gays. Both were ridiculed and called freaks because they were born a certain way by the same man.

He certainly didn't condemn gays like Ron did either. Ron was definitely a homophobe. Harry felt that he didn't really care about gays. In fact their entire lifestyle, their confidence intrigued him. They can be who they are without fear. It's not as if they chose to be gay, and it certainly wasn't a disease that could be eradicated just like the flu or polio. Harry could certainly relate with being treated like a disease. The gays were just like him. Only they were free and so handsome! Harry never was free. He couldn't make his own choices. He was always confined by what society expected of him. He had to like who they thought he should like. He had to be careful about what he said to keep from offending the masses or unintentionally starting a riot. He couldn't do anything unconventional without being considered an abomination or heartless. He was not an abomination. They weren't either. Just too dang handsome. He was just like them. He... was them.

Harry thought back to all the awkward moments that occurred to him when it came to the blokes he was friends with. The first time he looked upon the Weasley boys, how he remembers so vividly the praise that Oliver Wood gave him. Cedric dying. All of it. The changing room. The hostile encounters with Malfoy. Finding Sirius. His hero worship of Professor Lupin. Boys. Men. All shapes and sizes, yet all hold the spot light. His relationship with Ginny always felt staged. Fake. there was no substance besides the gushing and congratulations he received from Ron and Hermione. The other Weasley's as well. All of it was a show. But the hurt, the pain, that was real. How can that be so real. An epiphany hit Harry like a ton of bricks, it was the fact that he had disappointed those he loved and those that loved him. He had fancied himself in love with Ginny and to a certain capacity, he was. Was and will be ever more. The only thing was the fact that she wasn't the right one for him. She was more his sister. He had never had a sister like that so he didn't understand the difference between the love he had for a sister and the love he would have for his destined one. His other half. And it wasn't going to be a girl, he realized. It never was going to be a girl. He had loved boys all his life. Wood. Diggory. Riddle. And many others. How could he just notice now?

"No!" he whispered again, very vehemently. The boy Leo looked confused all of a sudden.

"You already said that. Once is plenty." He slowly backed away from Harry as though he was going crazy, but Harry didn't notice. He was still caught up in the whirlwind of his thoughts.

The world was spinning and images were flashing in his mind's eye. Shouldn't he have done this sort of self inspection before? But then again, he never had the time. He wasn't taught about anything but how to defeat the Dark Lord. He didn't think it was strange how he never really was into Ginny, he thought one kiss every once in awhile counted as attraction! He never even enjoyed kissing girls. Cho and Ginny were good kissers he realized, but it was just that. A kiss. It didn't proclaim undying love, at least on his part. But how did he think that was normal!

It wasn't. How didn't he didn't realize that until now? He never reflected on his feelings. It just isn't what men do. Now that he has, Harry wished with all of his gay heart that he never did. Things are just going to be a WHOLE lot harder now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the discovery has been made! Please Review or give suggestions. Any are welcome. And keep reading! Thanks you if you've gotten this far. There is still a loooong way to go! Hope I keep your ateention long enough for you to get to the end. :)


	9. Offers

After this big discovery, Harry noticed Leo walk away and start adamantly talking to Malfoy who was still by the concession stand. The entirety of the two boys conversation lasted only about five minutes. To Harry, it might as well have been a life-time. He was still shell-shocked. Shell-shocked by the discovery he just made. Gay. Gay. He was gay. A resounding roundelay they echoed in his mind. He stared listlessly. Walked without purpose. He didn't even notice the glare that Malfoy was now giving him as the heated discussion between Leo and Malfoy quickly turned into an argument. Harry wouldn't be able to bring himself to care even if he did notice. He was wrapped up in thinking about his new discovery... He loved Ginny. That was going to be his mantra now. the only form of denial he can have. He won't be a freak in Vernon Dursley's eyes in one more way! Will he? He loved Ginny. Her breaking up with him broke his heart. Or was he jealous that she left him... for a man? NO! She broke his heart. That's that. He is just going through a new stage of being distraught. Keep telling yourself that some part deep in his mind said in a snarky way quite similar to Malfoy's. Speaking of Malfoy...Harry looked around and tried to find the blonde, but he was nowhere in sight. Wait.. Why was he looking for him again? MERLIN'S BEARD! Did he have a crush on Malfoy?? No! To say so would to admit, who is he kidding? He DID! He always was obsessed with the boy. Ever since school.

Harry had to distract himself from his thoughts. The traitors! Images of Malfoy as they grew up, the hexes, the obsessive thoughts for revenge, all of it. Harry shook himself out of the stupor he was in now. He had been just standing there listlessly as the crowd walked around him. With thi new found clarity, Harry walked with a purpose towards the end of the park. He was going home. He needed moral support. He pulled out his wand and began to write out a letter to Hermione when..

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Potter! How do you feel about this new opportunity granted to you, so soon after the rejection to join the Aurors?"

"Mr. Potter, will you accept?"

"Mr. Potter! Is it even true?"

The press had found Harry and he had no idea what to think. What were the vultures even talking about? He had caught a few other choice phrases such as "Quidditch" and "Offer", but that did little to clear up the confusion. He looked over the sea of reporters that had shown up out of nowhere to see a man. This man towered over everybody else in just the "big presence" sort of way. He was anything but tall like Hagrid.

"Move BACK! Move BACK I say!" He said in a booming voice that contradicted his short stature. "Leave the poor boy alone, he doesn't even KNOW yet, because all of you jackals decided to cut me off before I could ask!"

Immediately all of the reporters backed off and let the miniscule man through. Upon reaching Harry the man reached up, shook his hand and said, "Let's go talk." So the pair went and walked further int the park and as they did the man began talking again.

He explained, "I'm sorry for the sudden attack of those piranhas, but somehow word got out of this very special offer I was planning on giving to you. You see, I've been watching you play for the amateur team or quite awhile. You have a gift Mr. Potter. And that is saying it lightly. You are exquisitely talented on a broom and highly qualified to play virtually every position in Quidditch. Why would any of this matter?" The man continued, noticing Harry's confused expression that was tinged with the pleasure and embarrassment of such high praise, "But the fact of the matter is that my name is Jack Prescott and I'm with the Quidditch Recruitment Department of the Quidditch Association, and we are VERY interested in you. We need a seeker, and you seem to be just the man. I am aware that you will need a bit of time to process such a gracious offer, so here is my card. Call when you have an answer. Talk with you later Mr. Potter. I'm sure we'll be hearing from you."

And with that the mysterious Quidditch team recruiter left. Harry was left nearly as confused as before, but now he was MUCH more excited. By this time, a new game was starting, and Harry was determined to play again. And so, for the second time that day Harry found himself on his broom with all of his worries melting off of him. This time, Harry was in the position of Seeker--where he was meant to be-- and nothing, nor nobody, woke him up from the stupor Quidditch put him in every time he played.

Not even when he noticed none other than Ginny Weasley walking around the park a million miles below him, hand-in-hand with Neville Longbottom.

Harry just played, and wound up winning the game. When he looked down, Ginny was gone, and Harry felt nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... He likes Draco huh? And the Recruiter is very brisk! :p(as is the chapter, sorry :/ ) But oh la la! Harry now has a chance for a new career. :) Will he take it? Please review and leave suggestions or comments; all are welcome. Thanks Guys!


	10. She Knew

Hermione had been nervous all day. After receiving a half-completed letter by owl from Harry, she knew only he was distressed and the feeling that he was in emotional upheaval was quite correct as always (she had a similar Feeling when Ron was in distress and she was always right with that Feeling as well). Before when she experienced the feeling Harry was in a life-threatening situation (and Ron was usually involved and she right nearby), but with Voldemort gone and nobody would dare harm the Saviour of the Wizarding World, there were no more life-threatening scenarios to worry about. If he had made it into the Aurors, Hermione would have double guessed herself, but luckily such was not the case. Voldemort is gone, the Death Eaters jailed, and Harry wasn't going to do any dangerous field work. All was good, except Hermione had that sneaking suspicion that Harry had finally discovered the thing that she had known for ages now. She hoped not.

Why? Well for the obvious reason of today she would not beable to help him through such a revelation as before. She was here in school (well, stuck "understudying") to learn about the Rights of Magical Creatures, and Harry was Merlin knows where, doing Merlin knows what. She kept glancing down at her at her phone wondering when Harry was going to finally call her, as he normally did when he was confused about something.

Riiiing. Riiing.

Immediately Hermione went and dragged out her phone expecting Hrry to be on the verge of tears or IN tears. Maybe saying somebosy dies or somethng. But what she got was far from what she expected. He sounded absolutely exultant.

"Hermione!" came the response on the other end. "You would never guess what just happened to me!"

"What?" She asked hestitantly and slightly worried. Whatever brought on this euphoria was NOT what her feeling was about, but she wanted to know otherwise. It was not so. As always she was correct. There are only two things that bring out unprecedented joy in her boys. Quidditch, and flying. Harry's joy was definitely a mask to some inner turmoil. Hermione knew it.

"A Quidditch Recruiter came by today and gave me his card! His name is Jack Prescott and he said that I'd be the perfect Seeker for them! I don't know what team or if I'm even going to accept, but it's nice, no?"

Hermione, ever altruistic, didn't let her true feelings show. If Harry was so happy about it then she was going to be too, for his sake. "Yes!" She gushed with so much enthusiasm she wanted to puke. Really. She thought she may have squealed! "Oh, Harry, this is so great! I am soo happy for you! But come on, such good news as this can NOT be the only exciting part of the day could it? And what do you mean you don't know if you're going to accept? This is one of your dreams. You had always thought it to be unobtainable,and here it is in your grasp. Why not seize it?"

What seemed to be sensible advice from Hermione ended up being the wrong thing to say. In essence, the idea that had been brewing in the back of her mind, that she ruined everything she touched, was proving to be true.

"I can't seize it. I don't deserve to do so. I thought something today," Harry said, confirming Hermione's previous suspicions and effectively causing a rush of sympathy to flow forth from the girl. "and maybe I should just stay home? I kow you're probably still mad at me for the bar incident, but you're the only one I kew I could tell... can we just... talk later?"

Hermone aquiesced with Harry's request and said, "and Harry? I'm not mad at you anymore. I haven't been for a week." Hermione hung up her phone. She wondered why Harry was being so forthcoming for once. So open. The way he sounded do scared and confused only strengthened the feeling Hermione had earlier. She wanted so badly to take away that confusion and pain, but she knew that it would take way more than just a few well meaning platatudes to acheive such a goal. Ever since the war ended and the funerals began people that Harry barely knew came up to him and tried to commiserate with him. It was to no avail.

After the war, Harry fell into a state of such depression that nobody could reach him. Hermione surmised that this was the true reason that Harry and Ginny split. Harry began to spend less and less time with her that she sought comfort in a person that would be there for her. Ginny never did do broken types before and it seemed that Harry was not to be an exception.

Hermione didn't blame Harry for being broken. He did nearly die, but by now he should be healing. It's just that the wounds just kept growing deeper and deeper like it was a thorn that embedded itself into his skin, and everytime he nearly got it out something happened to drive it in further.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione thought as she packed up for the day, "Will anything be easy for you?"

Hermione grabbed her bag and she Apparated away in order to get ready to meet Harry at the bar, the Golden Dragon, in an hour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I know. Its like this trend now. I can't write longer chapters :/ This is why school is a pain in the booty. BUT enjoy, leave comments, suggestions, reviews, Whatever you feel like! :) It would be GREATLY appreciated. Thanks again for bearing with me guys!


	11. Admittance and second chances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK! So I have AT LAST Updated. So sorry guys! But on the bright side, it is a long chapter! Hope you enjoy!

When Hermione walked into the Golden Dragon, she was struck by the way the light clung to everybody, inadvertently crowning them with a golden, shimmering halo. The irony of this illusion was not lost on the smart girl. Almost everybody in this pub had done something that would terrify any Muggle, more so than just regular magic that is, or any wizard/witch that was weak of heart.

She stared as she walked, this being her first time here. The wizards all looked despondent and forlorn while the witch just looked bored and depressed. The general air of the place so suited Harry's past mood that she very nearly passed over him while she scanned the crowd. When she finally saw him, she realized that was probably the point. With his return to a place of infamy, he was determined to show her that he won't do anything auspicious and would just blend in with the crowd.

When Hermione finally made it to the booth that Harry was sitting at, he started taking without looking at her.

"I hope you don't mind, but I invited the others."

Hermione was quite surprised by the statement, but didn't object to it. 

"Of course it's okay. I'm just happy to see you being sociable with everybody again. For the past few days you've been avoiding us. What's up?"

"Oh, nothing." Harry said despondently. The only clue that he was hiding something was the way he shifted his eyes away from her.

"So," Hermione said after a few minutes, "Just the usual lot?"

"Yeah." A few moments later, the most random question was asked, "How long have you known?"

Hermione couldn't hear him, nor did she understand what he meant.

"Excuse me?"

Harry looked at her with a look of steely determination in his gaze. "How long have you KNOWN?" He reiterated, with emphasis on the word "known". He had to get across the fact that he knows she knows what is bothering him. He needs to hear it, and Hermione wasn't having it. The look of desperation in his eyes nearly broke her, but she stood firm in he resolve.

"Known what, Harry?"

Don't do that to me Hermione. Please don't make me say it."

"Say what, Harry?"

"How long have you known?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Harry."

"Yes, you do."

"Well, maybe I do, but I think that you need to say it."

The two of them had a silent stare down. A contest of wills if you must. When Harry looked into Hermione's eyes, he saw only determination, a look she rarely got now. Some time during their discussion, Hermione had sat down. She placed a hand on her friend's shoulder and ordered him, 

"Say it."

And Harry broke. He took a deep, steadying breath and said the truth that had been haunting him since he discovered it.

"How long have you know... that I like... blokes... too?" Harry winced at his words. Admitting made it true. He really was a freak, wasn't he? That's why Hermione wasn't saying anything.

But that wasn't true at all. Hermione was looking at her friend with complete and utter sympathy. She knew how hard this was for him to admit, and it was late in coming that he would. She supposed it was time to answer his question.

"Since Cedric Diggory died." She said simply.

"How?" Asked Harry quite confusedly.

"Well, the first clue was your insistence in helping him out and how adamantly you felt that you HAD to help him. The second clue was you wanting to share the TriWizard Cup with him, but both of these things could have been chalked up to your usual "save everybody" approach. When he died though, that's when I truly knew. It was more than your hero stigma. This was something more. When you cried with him dead in your arms, it held more pain than any cry I had ever heard. It was the cry of a lover in distress . I knew that you felt responsible for what happened, but this anguish lasted in such an intensity for ages. It was like you had lost the One. Your One. You were depressed, no matter how well you hid it, I could tell you were even if you couldn't. I realized then that you liked him more than you were able to comprehend. When you where with Ginny, and said that you had fallen in love, I believed that it didn't matter as much anymore. I thought you guys would last forever... and I had never been more wrong."

"Oh." Was all the response he was able to give to that proclamation.

They sat in silence for awhile as Harry mulled over the information that Hermione gave him. He could have denied everything that she just said, but he had been lying to himself for far too long to allow that to happen any longer. No matter how much the truth hurt, he had to embrace it, and what Hermione said was the truth. He didn't like it, but she said exactly what he discovered earlier.

Suddenly the pseudo-silence of the bar was broken and outside noise managed to reenter the little set apart world Hermione and Harry had created. All because Ginny, Neville, Luna, Ron, and Seamus had arrived.

'Wow,' Hermione thought, 'he even invited Ginny. I wonder if he's already THAT comfortable with his sexuality...'

One look at Harry completely negated that thought. He looked like a kicked puppy, hurt and not understanding of what just happened. But, he was a MAD kicked puppy. He was tense, with fists clenched, his jaw set. Nobody had told him she was coming.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry had no idea that she was going to be here! Maybe his friends thought that it would be a good idea to finally see her again, after all, it HAD been six months, but they were wrong. Dead WRONG! Harry could barely deal with One new truth without having an old one thrown right into his face again! 

And what was even more unfair is the fact that Ginny still looks great, even with his preference to the male species... well... one male in.. STOP THAT THOUGHT! He will NOT deal with that right now.

So simply put, Harry's mind was in complete and utter chaotic turmoil. All he wanted to do today was go fly and then get trashed at some bar. But with one discover comes another and another and ANOTHER! For goodness sake, it wasn't enough to discover that you're gay.. (bisexual?... Harry's going to examine that later) and that you have a crush on your nemesis... but your bloody ex-girlfriend has to come and rip your heart out again simply by looking at her!! No anything less would be far too simple for the Boy Who Lived, Destroyer of Voldemort. All he did now was Live to experience Pain, and Destroy all Happiness he might have felt. 

With this dramatic turn of events, Harry wanted so badly to go rant, rave, and get in a fight, or snog Ginny senseless, regardless of the consequences, but all he did was raise his hand and shout,

"Drinks please!"

Harry took one look over at Ginny and Neville snogging and realized there were going to be a LOT of drinks tonight....

```````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````  
A few hours later and the group was STILL at the Golden Dragon with quite a few drinks in them at this point. Harry was as he had wanted to be all day, drunk. He couldn't ask for a better way to end a terrible day as this was then having a great time with his friends. They laughed the way only drunks can, and Harry doesn't even remember what they were laughing about. Not being able to remember only made the whole situation funnier! Harry let out a loud, boisterous laugh that was cut off the instant he saw the most unusual phantom in that glittering miasma of light. The way it bent and sparkled... Draco Malfoy looked positively radiant, even with his trademark scowl making him seem so out of place. Here he was looking like an angel, but acting like the devil everybody though he was.

He made a mockery of his ethereal surroundings. Yet, he did it so stunningly! Harry couldn't tear his eyes away from the spectacle that Dra-- Malfoy made quite unconsciously. A golden halo accentuated his gorgeous white-blonde crown that everybody called hair. The effect was dizzying and reminded Harry strongly of starlight and moonbeams. Malfoy's skin finally had healthful luster in its golden appearance, and his eyes, those deep, fathomless, grey eyes, they were sparkling with drink, mischief, and an incomprehensible kind of grief. The kind of grief that Harry himself has become quite accustomed to himself, and underneath all of those layers in the boy' s eyes lay a mystery that Harry wanted to uncover, there was the torment of many souls hiding in them, and Harry wanted to take that torment away. He wanted to save the boy whose life had already saved once not so long ago. Harry wanted to save Malfoy so he could lose himself to him.

Before he realized what was happening, Harry felt himself get up and begin walking, but where? Oh... To Malfoy. He really was to drunk to think straight. A murmur of their rivalry was taking root in his breast. A familiar strand of hatred moved him, until he remembered the promise he had made to Hermione. He will be better. It wasn't a verbal promise, just one in his mind. He promised not to fight. Maybe forced amicability will suffice.

"Heeey Malfoooy!" Harry slurred, "fancy meeting you here. Come here often?" He punctuated the over used pick up line with a wink. Surely this was amicable enough?

"Ahh, Potter!" said an equally drunk Malfoy, "Just the man I wanted to see."

"Why would that be?" Asked Harry quite stupidly.

"Because," Malfoy tried to explain, speaking slowly to gather his scattered thoughts through the haze of alcohol, "you are the man who cost be a boyfriend, and a bloody good one at that! Your stalker-ish tendencies had him quite put off and he didn't like the competition. He couldn't be persuaded of the fact that we are enemies. You're too famous to have enemies apparently. And too stalker-ish to be uninterested in me." Malfoy slithered up close to Harry. "Are you interested in me, Potter? Hmmmm?"

Harry gulped, disconcerted and strangely turned on by the nearness and proximity in which they were. 'Focus', he thought. Aloud, he avoided the question by saying, 

"I'm sorry. Did he break up with you?"

The question had the intended effect. Malfoy forgot to wonder whether Harry wanted him, and honestly, Harry didn't know.

"Of course he did you idiot! Seriously, did the loss of your parents permanently damage your ability to think? What do you think I meant by 'you cost me a boyfriend'? That he just walked out on me saying, 'you owe me 17.50' or something?" Malfoy's voice dripped with malice and sarcasm, but the old spite behind it was gone. His heart wasn't in the taunting of Harry. He was too broken and hurt to focus on hurting breaking others. Especially when the other person was just as broken as he. 

"Oh." was all Harry could say. "Why did he leave?"

"Because I knew you and didn't say. He was being an idiot, and it's all your fault."

Harry was done with amicable. He was being insulted and he wouldn't stand for it. He was far used to retaliating to comments that hurt him. Especially when it was Malfoy hurting him.

"So it's MY fault that he's an idiot? Honestly I think he did the right thing. Imagine having to shack up with YOU for the rest of his life!"

Malfoy's eyes narrowed, but Harry wasn't done yet.

"Maybe you should just grow up and let the bloke get on with his life. You haven't changed a bit. You're still a self conceited, arrogant, and narcissistic prick!" Harry got up to leave, but was stopped by the most surprising thing that ever happened to him in is life, and that was saying something big. Draco Malfoy became almost human.

"Please, don't go! I'm sorry."

Hearing Malfoy actually apologize made Harry stop dead in his tracks. He turned around slowly, the golden atmosphere adding to the surreal quality of what was happening. The gold swirled and blended. Malfoy truly was beautiful.

Malfoy noticed Harry stopped and he continued apologetically.

"You realize this is why we were enemies? One big misunderstanding after another. I say something callous and you react with harsh words. We continue to hurt and maim one another, but to what end? You still don't understand. You waste al of your potential that I admire by drinking yourself into oblivion, thinking that the listlessness of a drunk will somehow manage to make the demons go away, that for a few hours you forget. But, you don't see, do you? Nobody has ever told you to LOOK because you are the good and noble Potter, Saviour of the Wizarding World. Nobody could tell you off, but now I'm going to, because I'm a Malfoy. I think you Potters need a Malfoy to keep around and keep you straight, so to speak. Leo saw me as just me, who I am-- a Malfoy. I think it's time you did to. I'm callous and rude, but what can I say? That's me. You're good and noble. I'm 'evil' and an aberration. You wouldn't get that either would you?"

Harry's heart was in his throat. Malfoy, looking away like that, so lost and insecure, was heart wrenching. Sure, the drinks were making them more open then they would ever be before. They wouldn't even speak if they weren't drunk. And never would they be speaking kindly. The fact that they weren't being insulting was enough to astound Harry, and it gave him the strength to say what he needed to say next. He may just be being played by a craft Slytherin, but he's a Gryffindor, and will help Malfoy. He will be brave and risk being in pain.

"You are wrong again, Malfoy. I DO know what it is like. I lived with people who hurt me, called me Freak. Every. Single. Day. I wanted to die. Ginny was my salvation, and now I don't even have her. When I lost her, I wanted to forget, to die. In fact, I nearly Obviated myself just to rid myself of her memory. I talked myself out of so I would always remember the pain she caused. Without it, I may just go and fall for the next girl ho treats me like she did. For the next girl... she may just ruin me. I can't handle that. We are a lot alike, Malfoy. Maybe that is the REAL reason we were enemies. I saw Dudley, my cousin, in you. A big bully. But then, it was also your arrogance and pig-headedness I saw. I just forget I'm the same exact way."

"Speak for yourself only, Potter."

"Shut up and listen for once, Malfoy. You stopped me, so you're listening. Maybe, maybe we don't need to be enemies anymore? We've grown up, and I even have reconciled with Dudley, who was only under his parents thumb. You're the same in a way. I forgave him, so I forgive you. Perhaps... we can be... friends now?" 

The drinks really are the only reason Harry has the courage to say this. It's a ridiculous idea, but it so right. It feels like the only thing to do. Harry stuck out his hand and watched shock and disbelief run across Malfoy's features, but at last a decision was made. Though there was irony and an uncanny familiarity about this situation, Malfoy took Harry's hand and shook it quite hesitantly, as though he believed Harry was joking. He shook his hand in the way that Harry didn't do all those years ago. A new beginning and age has begun. 

"Okay Potter." Malfoy stated, "You're crazy for thinking that this will work, but I'm willing to give it a shot. How about we get the other's address to Floo Call or send owls BEFORE we both back out of this deal?"

Harry nodded. So, wordlessly the pair exchanged their personal information.

Harry sauntered back to his friends, walking through the golden haze of their atmosphere, it seemed all light followed him. He disappeared from Malfoy's view like no more than a shadow. In the same way he reappeared in the sight of the group, all staring at him with an incredulous expression on their faces. They were deathly silent, all of them had stopped their conversation to sit and gawk at Harry and his handsome companion. They didn't kill each other... they were pleasant... they were friends... and a jaw dropping sight together.

The world must be ending. 

Hermione was the exception. She was smiling at Harry with a knowing, encouraging grin.

Only, Harry didn't notice any of this. He was too busy grinning like a madman at all that had just occurred. He was thinking about Draco Malfoy, his new friend, and wondering when they were going to get in contact with the other again. What would happen? Would they be pleasant? Would they grow in friendship? Have it develop into something new?

Harry could hardly wait to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what do yous think? Feel free to leave comments, suggestion, or a review! It's all greatly appreciated! Thanks guys.


	12. Reconciled?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! I was able to update today! Hope you all enjoy!

Draco Malfoy knew something was up even before that infernal Potter sat down beside him. Suspicion ran in his blood, and he knew that never once in is life had Harry Potter ever come to "just talk". He was expecting a hex. A punch, or maybe even a few spiteful words. It never occurred to him that Potter would ever be nice. That he could understand or commiserate. He neveronce thought that his dream would come true, and they could be friends. They had been civil (as civil as the heathen could be at least). But most importantly, they had both been drunk.

So that next morning, Draco woke up hung over and wondering if what happened really happened. He ruminated on the past few hours.

Potter had come to him sympathetic and kind. This attitude was the only thing that kept him from being his usual snarky, sarcastic, and rude. Besides, it was nearly impossible to be anything but sincere when drunk. In that respect, Draco knew that Potter was serious about wanting to be friends, and true in his sympathy. Merlin, How badly he wanted to hate that broken and beautiful protagonist.

Why did Harry always have to be the hero? His hero? Here the idiot is deciding that against all odds, he, the former Death Eater, his former enemy, the bane of all the Wizarding World, desevered a second chance. Believed that the complete polarity of their attitudes could be compatible in any way, even as barely there friends. 

Admittedly, the idea of Potter wanting to give the idea of one another being partners in crime made him want to jump for joy. When Potter actually agreed to give away his number and address... it was all he could do to NOT kiss the man. He waned to sing and dance, but there was no need o call unnecessary attention to his drunkenness. He was a Malfoy after all, and Malfoys do not get drunk, and they do not sing or dance in public.

He had watched Potter walk back, dumbstruck, until the golden mist had swallowed him. Today, the memory remains with him, creating a nostalgia unknown to him. He wanted to stay in that moment, watching Potter. This disturbed him greatly. 

Potter may be his newest friend, but he shouldn't pine for him. He mustn't think about him.... but... Draco looked down to the paper by his nightstand, one of the few items of furniture he has, and made a decision. He Floo Called Potter.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
It was quickly evident that this Floo Call was going downhill fast. The tone of their voices, the newness of the relationship had the boys at each other's throats within a minute or so. Some animosities were hard to bury.

In a way, the sarcastic remarks and jibes about one another that they spouted off were the trademark of this relationship. Both reveled in the easy banter and spitefully teasing insults that tested the other's patience. One day, their relationship would be all the stronger for it. Strong enough to rival that of Harry, Ron, and Hermione's companionship. That is... until the nature of their friendship changed... but fate hadn't revealed that to them yet.

Because of the failed Floo Call, and the stubborn persistence of both men, they decided to actually meet in person later. They realized that this meeting might not be all sunshine and rainbows, that they would likely argue and part even more bitter enemies as a matter of fact, but this risk was one that they felt they HAD to take. It ouldn't be explained. It just was.  
They were being driven by a force stronger and more ancient then themselves, and the four letter word was not to be taken lightly. Fate had a plan for them, and it won't give up until the very end it wanted was met.

"How about the movies?"

"Do you REALLY want this to look like a date, Potter?"

"Well, no."

"Then no. We do not want a scandal, and I do not want to be thought of as your boyfriend. Merlin forbid such a thing happen. Me, associated with You.. I shudder at the very idea."  
"Well, it doesn't cause warm fuzzies in my mind either, Malfoy."

"I mean just THINK, they would think I had corrupted you! Not that it would be a bad thing for you to be more like Me. Who doesn't want to be insanely gorgeous and clever? But it's just... no."

"Okay, I GET it Malfoy! I'm disgusting!"

"No, you're delightful. And delightful to me IS disgusting. So only half right, Potty, again."

"Snake."

"Scarface."

"Ponce."

"Fairy."

"Same difference."

"Bugger off."

"Okay. The park?"

"Again with the horrid dating connotation!"

"But, it's a public place."

"And you are a public commode. Same difference."

"By what logic...?"

"I don't need logic. I'm a Malfoy."

"Then the park it is."

"How..?"

"If you don't need logic, then this makes perfect sense."

"Look who's being a snake now."

"I'm not a snake; I just speak to them."

"Oh, ha ha."

"Seriously."

"I know. I was there."

"Oh yeah."

"Sooooo, noon?"

"Sure, Why not?"

With this all figured out, the boys said their goodbyes and pretended not to be excited with having plans to see each other.

'It is perfectly reasonable,' Harry reasoned, 'that I would feel so happy to see Malfoy. It's only because we are finally burning bridges and getting along."

Then noon came around. Harry was still feeling hung over, despite the hang over remedy he took, but it didn't matter. He had a da-- some plans with Malfoy! His eyes may burn in the sun, his head my pound at every noise, but seeing Malfoy as a FRIEND? That's a foreign concept that Harry found he enjoyed. 

"About time we settled this thing," Harry had thought once the Floo Call ended. He still wasn't sure how settled it really was.

Here he was, two hours later, and whistling as he got ready. The sound piqued the curiosity of Hermione, who promptly stuck her head into the door to see what was going on. seeing that it was only Harry getting ready, she wondered why he was so happy for just a moment before a knowing smile graced her features. Malfoy. Of course. 

Harry had been so morose. 

"So, where are you going?" She inquired. She already knew there was plans made, just not the details, she didn't to eavesdrop COMPLETELY on the Floo Call she heard earlier.  
She knew that she should be slightly weirded out by his change of heart toward Malfoy, but she wasn't. He was happy. Happiness for Harry came in short supply. That was all Hermione needed to be glad that somebody, even the dreadful Malfoy, was able to make her friend smile again. 

Harry didn't know Hermione had overheard their discussion.

"Out." He said shortly.

"Oh, with whom? Where?"

"Around. With... a friend." Technically Malfoy was a friend. He just wasn't ready to let Hermione know.

"Oh! Well... have fun with this... friend."

His hair was still in disarray, he noticed, as he rushed out of the flat. It didn't matter, he told himself. Anything to avoid that conversation...

Hermione stood in the doorway, barely hearing Harry's mumbled "bye." She was busy analyzing Harry's response. Even terrified of HER reaction, Harry was still running away with a spring in his step... and straightening his hair? Yes he was smitten. He so didn't know it yet either.

"This is good for him." Hermione repeated, trying to convince herself further, "He NEEDS somebody to make him happy again."

Maybe this relationship can change things. Maybe things can be normal for once, whatever that would mean. Maybe everybody would slowly forget the fear that Voldemort inflicted. Maybe Harry would finally forgive himself. Maybe.

Maybe was all Hermione needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave comments, reviews or suggests! And thanks to all of you guys who left Kudos for this! Yous are amazing! :D


	13. Let's Go!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At LONG LAST This thing is posted!! I am SO SORRY it has taken AGES to finally update, but my computer decided to suddenly get a Bajillion bugs on it and I could NOT get on the internet so long story short, I haven't been able to update or type really. I'm sorry. Now with school, don't be surprised if it's awhile again... but it won't be a month or more most likely! Promise!! Thanks for reading!

 

Draco Malfoy was pacing. Which is significant because Malfoys NEVER pace.

He was also standing in a Muggle park by a Muggle bench near Muggles! Malfoy's never associate with Muggles either. He went to so far as to be wearing Muggle clothes. If this wasn't strange enough, he did this all to impress Potter. Draco has been doing a lot of un-Malfoy-ish things lately. That has to be okay though. He isn't truly Malfoy anymore.

There had never been a gay Malfoy before (at least not one OPENLY gay...). He even told his PARENTS. There had to be something wrong with him. His parents were shocked, naturally, when they were told, but what they were perturbed and even angry about was WHO made him realize this life-altering truth. The one for whom he was pacing in wait. That green eyed menace who always smells of cinnamon and a trace of Butterbeer....

_It wasn't as though it was completely out of the blue. He had dropped hints about it for ages._

_Narcissa had been the one to come out of shock first._

_"Figures." She had said, "I knew that you were obsessed with him during school, but I was silly in believing it was pure hate. Your pride was hurt, I remember, when he didn't accept your friendship-- in front of everybody! The nerve!-- but why did it affect you to such a degree of avid animosity? Now I know. Your subconscious woke up. It said 'you like him,' and you fought it. It makes so much sense looking back..."_

_Lucius hadn't been so understanding. Draco had come out at the worst time possible. It was Fourth Year, and he only realized his emotions toward the raven haired man when he was chosen for the TriWizard Tournament. If Draco had known that the Dark Lord was rising that year, he wouldn't have said anything. He would have been quiet, but he didn't know. He was forced to live with the consequences of his ignorance._

_For as soon as he found out, Lucius told the Dark Lord. Lucius claimed that he didn't know what else to do. That he had done it for the best interests of the family. Draco didn't doubt it. In his own warped way, Lucius was trying to help. To reach out. It just back fired. The Dark Lord couldn't understand a Pure blood being so 'abnormal' and not perfect._

_He decided to force "perfection" on the young man._

_Maybe if he saw how abnormal he was being, he'd stop...._

_So Draco endured months of torture, rape, and other horrors all the time thinking of Harry, hating Harry, yearning for him. He also didn't give up, even if he gave in. He promised to kill an old man. THE old man. Albus Dumbledore. He said that he would be a Death Eater._

_Ironically, the torture really  was his  only saving grace in the end. The only reason he wasn't sentenced to Azkaban. What he did, he didn't do voluntarily._

_Ironic. Voldemort saved him by destroying who he was._

_Nobody would be able to deny Draco has changed, but they still hate him. He is still the stigma of what people hated and feared. He was a Death Eater, and his plight didn't change that for them in the least._

Draco scowled.

This scowl could be taken as a scowl of hostility, but it wasn't directed at any of these poor, stupid Muggles. No, this scowl was reserved for its wearer and its wearer only.

His thought. His flashbacks. He was mad at himself, pure and simple. Mad at being Pure and Simple.

He was such a conformist! Falling for the most famous wizard alive... but in his defense, how could he not? The dark, mysterious, and tortured soul gave people second chances even when they don't deserve them. Draco was alive right now simply because of that reasoning. Not just because of the Room of Requirement incident either.

A few nights ago, the night he talked with Potter actually, he was in a bad state. Thus his want to get trashed and give up. All he wanted to do was go slice his wrists and not heal the wound. Keep it open. Bleed out on the tiles and let the housekeeper find him. He was just DONE. But then Potter saved him. Again. It's becoming a habit, and he doesn't really want to be saved.

Malfoy pulled down the long sleeves of his sweater in order to try and better hide the palest of pink scars. The one that his magic couldn't heal. He didn't want it to heal. He made his mark on his own skin. A memorandum to his feelings about himself. How could he want to forget? How could anybody forget once they cut themselves, even once?

All at once, his musings were cut short.

The man on his mind appeared like an old fashioned knight... who stumbled right before reaching him.

"Shoot!" He cursed.

He approached Draco with glasses all askew and his hair sexily disheveled. Harry smiled his half smile/ smirk, making a shiver run down Draco's spine, which only intensified when he shook his hand.

_'Stupid gayness._ ' Draco cursed silently.

Aloud he said,

"Well Potter, isn't this nice. We can meet and be all chummy. We can be all cozy when it's bloody freezing outside! Why an outside event in the middle of Winter? Not to mention you show up fashionably late as always. What is it you are planning to do?"

Harry stood inert for several moments, staring at nothing but the phantoms in his mind.

Draco let this go on for a few minutes until the silence was becoming uncomfortable and he was about to do another un-Malfoy-ish thing: babble.

Harry's narrowed eyes were really disconcerting.

"What," Malfoy jabbed after a few more terse moments, "Cat got your tongue?"

"Hmmm?" Harry replied quite eloquently and sophisticated, "Oh! Sorry. Would you like to go flying and play Quidditch some?"

"Here, in front of all of these Muggles? I always knew you were daft, but to be that daft is a new low for you! Are you sane?"

Harry winced at the remark, but a stoic expression quickly covered up the slip, making Malfoy doubt HIS sanity.. Potter could be a Malfoy if he wanted to be... but he is far too defensive!

"No you prat!" Harry sardonically returned, "not here. This was just a rendezvous point in case you tried anything. I mean go to the Park near Diagon Alley. The Wizarding park."

"I haven't a broom." Malfoy tried to say.

"We'll find one, and since that wasn't a 'no', we're going."

"Aren't you afraid that somebody we know would see us together though?" Malfoy was almost certain that Harry was.

"Kind of," Harry conceded, "I won't deny that I'm worried, but given we are trying to be friends and all, despite your frosty and arrogant countenance at the moment. It's about time we showed everybody that we are friends, just to avoid the Press coverage that we are bound to get. Merlin, I hate the Prophet!"

Harry stalked away at that.

"Oh, and with that insult to my person, I assume that I MUST just get up and follow him, huh?" Malfoy muttered, following Harry through the crowd.

For that, Harry was glad.

_Stupid gayness._ Malfoy cursed himself once more for being too weak to say no to Potter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the chapter was short for such a long wait :/ but I HAD to get SOMEHING out right?? Leave comments, kudos, or suggestions if you so please, appreciated peoples! Love all yous!


	14. Just Short of Salvation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short.. and so late in coming. I lost all the work I had on the story and am trying to find it... but I know where it's going so HOPEFULLY I won't be so horrid at updates!

When the two boys had arrived at the park, the first thing they did was go to find Malfoy a broom. Harry, of course, was not able to go more than 50 feet without being surrounded by a mob of appreciative witches and wizards, all of whom wanted to say hello to the Savior. Harry was sick of it. The congratulations. The laudatory comments, all because he killed a man. A tyrant, yes, but a man, no matter how loosely the term was applied. He was evil. He needed to be stopped, but the guilt plagued him every day.   
"You're welcome." He said to a woman who had thanked him.

"I really had nothing to do with the survival of your family..." He tried to explain to a persistent wizard trying to hand him an everlasting ham. 

"Too modest! The man had explained before he went and ran off, harmless and skipping.

"Help me..." Harry muttered to Malfoy when the crowd had thinned out a bit. His voice was strained, tension lacing every fiber of his being. He had no words. He cannot pretend any longer to happy, or he would burst. 

All at once Malfoy burst from Harry's side and yelled,  
"Potter, how dare you show your face in my presence?"

"Wha- what?" Harry was so confused now.

"You think you own this place don't you?" Draco moved close, getting in Harry's face as he whispered "Play along."

All at once he understood. Draco was a genius.

“No. I don’t, you do. Now why don’t you run along before you scare a small child or something?”

“Think that’s witty, Potter? Not everybody can be The Boy Who Lived Twice!” Draco Malfoy shouted and then in a flash drew his wand.

The crowd surrounding Harry gasped in shock. They had been watching in suspense the entire time, but now Harry was threatened. They decided to take action. 

“The Death Eater strikes again!” A random man in the crowd yelled. 

It seemed that was the signal. Draco began running and the crowd followed him, shouting curses.

Harry was suddenly all alone. No more paparazzi, no more crowd. Then, he wasn’t alone. Draco popped out of nowhere, with broom in hand, and said, 

“That was fun. Now. Let’s play some Quidditch!”

Harry laughed at the crafty wizard and agreed. How could he be so good at getting away? 

He smiled at Draco and started the game. Releasing the Snitch, they both went into active search mode and competed to find it first.

Draco was as good a seeker as Harry remembered. He met Harry dive for dive, feint for feint, and saw through some very subtle tricks like any Slytherin could. They raced good manneredly for several hours, each trying to catch the golden snitch. 

They had a grand time. The banter and competitive edge both males enjoyed was prevalent through their entire game. The crowd didn’t find them again. By the time the sun was going down and they could barely see their hands in front of their faces. They landed on the ground and Harry gave Draco a playful shove. It was a close match, but he had defeated Draco. 

“How,” asked he, “did you miss it? The snitch was right in front of your face! You HAD to have seen it!” He couldn’t stop grinning like a maniac.

“You should know that the thing is bloody fast and it was bloody dark! If I didn’t know better, I’d say that you rigged the thing.”

“Oh yeah,” said Harry sarcastically, “I managed to rig the public snitch just to spite you. That makes sense. I’m just THAT powerful.”

Draco looked intensely at Harry. “You really are.” But suddenly the sly grin came back. “Or maybe you aren’t and just seduced the snitch with your charm!”

Harry shook his head incredulously. “Seriously Malfoy?” Draco frowned slightly at the last name, “the inanimate hunk of metal fancies the public figurehead? What a story that would be! Rita Skeeter would be beside herself when she realizes that she missed out on such a big scoop on her Golden Boy! You’re crazy.” Harry was laughing so hard at this point. The look on Malfoy’s face was just so priceless!

He went slack-jaw and blinked rapidly before he broke into a grin. "You're joking aren't you? You git! Here I was thinking you fancied that reporter!"

It was then Harry's turn to give Draco an incredulous look. "You..." He grinned. Oh you. he thought with a grin.

The boys carried on their evening pleasantly, which was surprising for both of them. Shouldn't it be harder to be friends with your former enemy? It must be the war that made this possible. It changed them so much... and they were so similar.

Both boys, whether they realized it or not, were broken, searching for help and they might just find it in each other.  
They said good bye and Apparated away. 

Back at his dilapidated hovel, Draco Malfoy' demons tried to chase him once more.

'You do not deserve to be happy.' They said, 'Why look at you, befriending the enemy. A Malfoy, reduced to nothing. Associating with filth. How dare you even pretend to have prestige or pride. Worthless scum!'

But then Malfoy remembered the way Harry's hair was whipped about by the wind, say the joy in the boy's eyes. He saw somebody who was worth being around, even if he didn't deserve to be. The way the boy looked when he was flying, that was the real magic in his world. He would give anything to have that joy, that magic. So he walked into the bathroom, grabbed the instrument which had ravaged his skin at his own command... and threw it away. He would try to not use it.

Harry-- the prat-- would be his salvation... if he would be willing. If Draco's pride would let him. He went to sleep that night... and for the first time in a long time had no nightmares. Memories of day were playing through his head instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Leave reviews if you please! More is coming your way ASAP.


	15. Dream People and Decisions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay to updating!

Harry didn't have nightmares. The dreams that he had playing through his head were torturing enough to qualify, however, should he have been honest with himself. His dreams were the mixture of fantasy and reality that always makes you forget that you are safe in bed. The dream becomes a reality, and this dream is one that Harry could have lived without.

In it was Ginny Weasley. He had long given up on dreaming about her, but today was different. The memory of his day out with Malfoy was the setting of this dream. He saw Malfoy's guard go down for the first time. He saw the hurt the boy was hiding and he saw something so precious and so vulnerable in his face, that Harry nearly wept. If only he, in his childish rage and revenge, didn't want to strike back at somebody who seemed to epitomize every bad thing in his life, if he instead allowed himself to see the good in every person, then maybe he would have seen this side of Malfoy a long time ago.

The boys in the dream were laughing as they walked down the pathways of the park. It was a senseless kind of banter like their school days, only now they knew they were joking. 

It was not a shock to pass a couple on the bench these days. If that couple were making out, then that was just as fine. So dream Harry would never know what prompted him to look at the one couple they passed. It was nothing more than a cursory glance, but it was enough to ruin dream Harry, his good mood evaporating like the early morning dew on a Quidditch pitch. He had spent months memorizing the planes of that girl's face. Every freckle. Every strand of hair. If he hadn't, maybe he wouldn't have noticed. But he did. Enter dream Ginny. She was making out with Neville, and all Harry could do was stand there numbly and stare. He was sweaty, clutching his broom, but he had the strongest urge to rip the beautiful girl away from the man who was once one of his closest friends.   
All at once though, the pain that wretched through his gut every time he saw that girl with auburn tresses changed into a raging torrent of desire as the auburn locks softened and lightened into a platinum blonde. The length shortened until it was just a crown of a lovely blonde head. Ginny's features sharpened slightly into the defined planes of an ornery blonde. Neville was nonexistent, for in his place was Harry, making out with Draco Malfoy. Maybe this dream isn't as big a nightmare as he believed.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
The next morning Harry woke up and realized that he had been crying. It was stupid, but it just served to embarrass Harry. Especially once he remembered what exactly happened in that dream. Bloody heck. He thought. He had to be going insane. Making out with sodding Malfoy in his dreams. Harry had come to terms with how he liked blokes, but Malfoy? It still seemed to be too much for him to handle.

He decided right then and there to go see the one person who always made sense out of his life when it became far too mucked up for its and his own good. He was going to see Hermione.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Hermione was glad she had perfected the art of hiding her true feelings from the outside world. She was glad that even though she had been crying a few moments earlier, Harry didn't seem to notice. Good thing too. She knows that Ron didn't mean to make her cry. It was really her own fault she had to use several healing charms on her wrists and face. She made him mad. He had been drunk after a particularly grueling day at work. It was just how it was.

Besides, she had to be here for Harry. She listened closely as he retold the details of his dream. He said that he had another dream about how he lost Ginny, but this time something seemed off. It wasn't right. It wasn't complete. Hermione had always had good instincts.

"SO," she said, "the pain of seeing her with Neville was the last thing that happened in this dream?" Hermione inquired speculatively. She definitely didn't believe Harry as he nodded. Not with that blush that now coated every square inch of his face. "Right then." She said, seeming to relent, "if that is all, then I can only give you the same advice I had for you the last dream, just let go. It would be better for both of you. Besides, I thought that you, you know, liked boys?" Now it was Hermione's time to blush, but she rushed on before Harry could say anything, "And I wonder why you are having another dream like this. It had been so long." 

And it had. The last time Harry had come to her about this was around two months ago. He had been distressed and coming completely unhinged. He looked wretched like he hadn't caught a wink of sleep. He had red eyes and a haunted expression. Today he looked slightly uncomfortable and embarrassed, but totally calm. Yes. Something more was going on.

"Well," Harry began haltingly, "I guess it just... happened again." Another deep blush. "And you are right about the liking blokes thing, but you know I loved Ginny."

Loved. The use of the past tense was not lost on Hermione. But she isn't going to call him out on it just yet. Instead she just filed the information away for future use. "OK." She said, "But..." she bit her lip debating on whether to say something. She did, "If you were just torn up about the dream you wouldn't be here." Harry looked like he was about to protest, but Hermione knew how to deal with his self imposed denials. " Come on, you know you had perfected the art of dealing with the loss of her. Something more is going on here, otherwise you wouldn't look like a tomato right now." Saying that only resulted in a deep shade of red spreading across the pale face of the dark-haired hero.

Harry nodded in his 'I'm making up my mind' manner and finally came out with it. "You are right." So Harry told Hermione the last bit of his dream. Making out with Malfoy. Liking it. And for once, Hermione was struck speechless. "Oh."

"Yeah." Said Harry looking glum.

"Well," Hermione said after a few minutes of silence. "I think that it's obvious that you... like him."

"But what about Ginny?" Harry burst out. "How can I pursue this if there is still her?"

So that's what the issue is. "Harry," Hermione began softly. Carefully. "I think that you are holding on too much to the memory of Ginny... you know she is happy with Neville, right? I think she would only want you to be happy too."

"But she is all I had..." Harry said hesitantly.

"But not all you have. Not anymore. You have me and you have... Ron." There. She forced his name out. It's going to be okay. It has to be okay. "And maybe you will even have... Malfoy. But you won't know unless you try. It does not do to dwell on dreams like Ginny and forget to live, Harry." Hermione purposefully echoed the words of Albus Dumbledore because come on, he was one smart man, and even thought this is a completely different circumstance, his words still hold true today.

Harry obviously realized this. "Ok." He said. "I'll go. I'll try."

He left, pleased. Hermione was happy for him, but why couldn't she take her own advice?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what do you think? Let me know if you want! Thank you to anybody who is suffering through my sporadic updates and a hearty thanks to everybody who left kudos! Thanks so much guys! Keep reading for there is more to come!


	16. Pit of Despair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I haven't abandoned this fic and have no intention of doing so! My life has gone CRAZY and finally settled down enough to type again. It's no excuse... but I'm sorry for all that have been waiting on an update. Here you go! Please, enjoy :)

The days that followed Harry’s time with Malfoy in the park, and the talk with Hermione, were the best of Harry’s life. He and Malfoy spent most of their time together, but it was a strained kind of thing, and insanely tense. There was a moment after the big chase in the park that they walked away and shyly ended up holding hands and saying nothing about it. The incident all started as Harry went to drag Malfoy towards the exit, fuming.

_“What was that all about?” He was referring to the abrupt way Malfoy had ended the last match that they had played. He just had landed and walked away, Harry still in the air, triumphantly holding the Snitch._

_“What was what about?” Malfoy said, genuinely confused._

_“You stormed away from me when I won.” Harry knew that he was being petulant, but he couldn’t help it. For the boy to walk away from him, it just seemed to hurt more than it warranted._

_“That was nothing at all. I was just tired.” Malfoy would never admit to this boy that it was actually the fact that all this exercise had made the barely healed and concealed cuts begin to hurt and, in the case of a particularly nasty one, bleeds. Some things were best kept a secret._

_“Oh.” Harry remained silent for a time. “Then that’s okay I guess.”_

_Both boys looked down at their intertwined fingers. They both felt the sparks that were traveling between them. They could feel the heat that the others body was emitting. They looked into the vast expanse of the others eyes, and said nothing. The moment was infinite. But they just continued a new, amiable conversation once the moment was interrupted by the general clamor of the park. Neither took their hands away either._

For all Harry knew, the whole hand holding thing was a one-time fluke. They never talked about what had happened or what it meant. It had been so long that Harry had begun to doubt that anything even happened to begin with. He had been planning since then to come out to Malfoy, but the chance never did present itself and now it was looking as if it wouldn’t be necessary. There was nothing there. The enmity between the two will never be lifted. A friendship had been forged, but would it ever be more?

As Harry was falling into a pit of despair, Hermione was living in one. Her relationship with Ron was deteriorating every day as he only became more and more possessive and cruel. She couldn’t put up her hair without his permission it seemed. Her owl had been chained up, and the bruises were getting harder and harder to hide. The wince that she made involuntarily became more noticeable. Soon she wouldn’t be able to keep the dreadful reality in which she lived a secret. But she still found herself unable to end things. She depended on Ron. He made her feel safe, special, and quite frankly, needed and important. How could she leave that? He may be rough, but he cares. He loves her.

And the bruises aren’t that bad. She could heal them. But to do so didn’t seem right. Ron hadn’t given her the permission to yet. And she was a slave to him. A willing slave, but a slave all the same. His demands became her law, and slowly but surely she found herself losing bits and pieces of the Hermione she knew. The emotional pain was a burden that she dealt with everyday. Losing herself, that was just one part of it. It became just as lost as she was.

Or so she thought. Hermione never wanted to leave Ron. It wasn’t until one particular night that she knew it would be too much. She still had a little dignity left. Even though she left most of it behind and preferred Ron’s approval.

It began as a typical drunken night. He came back all red faced and sweat drenched from the fire whiskey. His antics were worse than usual, meaning he was more drunk than usual. That was saying something. It began with a blow and ended in a sloppy caress.

“You really are beautiful, Hermione.”

Despite the fear overwhelming her, Hermione could not help but feel a familiar glow of warmth at the compliment.

“Thank you, Ron.”

He stepped closer, breath reeking and stinging her eyes, and he kissed her. Hermione returned the favor and went to step back, but was harshly jerked back forward and pressed against the inebriated wizard. He held a struggling Hermione close. She really didn’t want this.

“Ronald. Let me go.” “But ‘Mione, I want you! I can’t help it. Please?” And that was when she gave in. She was shivering. She was scared. But it was what he wanted, and she could refuse him nothing, especially not if it would make him frustrated. She knew nothing else, no other way.

He tried something new that night. And by the end, she ended up crying. She didn’t want it. And hearing him murmur, “I am so, so sorry. Never again.” did nothing to soothe the aching in her soul and the burning in her bum.

All she could do was cry. And then Ron left her, sobbing into her hands on the floor and retreated upstairs to sleep it off. All that Hermione could think was, “why did I let that happen to me? Why didn’t I fight back?” And there was nobody to give an answer.

Ron woke up the next morning with a head that felt like a Quidditch match had just been played in his head… the Bludgers winning, and a mouth that was drier than the Sahara Desert. He had only the foggiest memory of last night. All he could think was, “What have I done?” And he found that he could care very little. She was his. That was all that mattered.

He got up to get ready for work, all events forgotten. While this was occurring, Hermione slipped out of the house, distraught, and sought the solace of a friend who had never hurt or abused her. She knew he was having problems on the relationship front. Maybe if she snuck over to help, she could make sense of everything that was happening around her, maybe she would be able to salvage the shambles that were becoming her life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize I have probably fallen short of your expectations with this short chapter... but as always feel free to review and comment. I LIVE for comments and THRIVE off of them! I thank everybody who has left kudos on my work and just bow to everybody enduring my story! :D


	17. Note

I know anybody that may have ever been reading this probably hates me now. It has been forever and a day since I last posted and now all I have is an apologetic author's note? No excuse. Life has been utterly hectic and is finally calming down, so now I can get back to typing. I promise to post soon. I have the next few chapters written so I just need to type them and then find internet! I really am sorry... and now I am about to start college... I'll have internet there! Just I thank you for your patience and hope fervently that you'll forgive me for not posting for so long! Don't give up on me yet! I will be back before you know it :)

(Dang... I started this two years ago... seriously. Sorry!!!)


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